You were sitting across from me on Saturday morning, your iced coffee in hand, and that tired smile on your face. You were talking about everything, what your schedule looked like these days, appointments, what you were reading, watching, and listening too. You mentioned things you were struggling with and other things you’d been encouraged by. You opened the door to your ordinary life, and sister, there’s something about your faithfulness that always fills me up.
You’re not asking for fame, or even acknowledgement. You aren’t striving for the big and noteworthy. You aren’t even trying to explain to everyone why it is you’ve chosen the path of least attention. You simply get up each morning, put one foot in front of the other, and look to your Savior for strength, purpose, identity, and everything else. And there’s something about your faithfulness, sister, that fills me up.
Our world is full of women wanting to be noticed, to be remembered, to be set apart by their accomplishments and identities. They rise up and tell us that we too, can be like them. We can make sacrifices, can defy the dreams and plans of those around us, and be whoever we want. Applause ripples throughout our country as “progress” is made by politicians, actresses, lifestyle bloggers, and musicians. We see their faces on magazines, in press conferences and hear their voices everywhere. But there’s something about your simple life of faithfulness, sister, that astounds me more than the lives of these “remarkable” women.
Maybe they’ll be remembered by the world longer than you will. Maybe they’ll have books written about them, and be asked to speak on podcast after podcast. Maybe they’ll be the ones everyone notices and recognizes. But sister, there’s something you have that they don’t, and while they think they can change the world for people, what you have changes eternities. Because there’s something about your faithfulness, sister, that makes people wonder, what is it you have that makes it worth it all?
You may never shatter a glass ceiling, become the “first” to fill a certain role, or even be known by more than the handful of people in your small community. But there’s something about your faithfulness that inspires me more than all the “strong” women out there. Your worth is found in the One who gave His life for you, not in the things you accomplish. This leaves you free to live a simple life. It enables you to get up in the morning and know that making breakfast for the kids, running errands, chatting with the barista, mailing cards to lonely friends, and reading your Bible again and again are noble callings. In her autobiography, Patricia St. John wrote, “The love of Christ indwelling and reaching out through a simple human life will draw people to Himself.” She was right.
There’s something about a simple life of faithfulness, sister, that makes people wonder what it is they are lacking, what it is you have that they don’t. What the world calls “successful women” elevate themselves, but faithful women, elevate the One who has given them abundant life. One may change the world, the other might just change eternities.
Maybe all you’ll do is show Christ to your family, your friends, and the people you interact with in the grocery store and at the doctors office. Maybe your legacy will be a mundane one of making meals, folding laundry, driving people to appointments, and praying with hurting saints. Maybe everything you’ve ever poured into others that you could’ve poured into yourself will be used by God in ways you’ll never see or know. Maybe, this ordinary life of faithfulness you live, will only be seen and noticed by the One who will dry your tears, and say, “well done, my good and faithful servant.”
But there’s something about your faithfulness, sister, that fills me up. It’s an arrow pointing me to the One who is worth it all. It reminds me of the value of eternity, of the brevity of this life, of the futility of the world. It teaches me to store up my treasure in heaven, to seek first His kingdom.
There’s something about your faithfulness, sister. It convicts me. It inspires me.