Do you know God cares about the little things?

Sometimes, I think we forget that God doesn’t just care about the big things. Of course, I don’t mean to say he doesn’t care about the big things—he most certainly does. But sometimes, we forget that he cares about the little things, too. He even cares about the things we don’t care about very much.

But I find that he especially cares about those tiny, insignificant things, that are so important you couldn’t possibly tell anyone about them.

What we care about

There’s a quote from a Jane Austen book that has helped me express myself in this regard.

That’s how I feel about a particular writing project of mine. It’s something dear to me that my sister and I created together. We have a character in this story who has a very particular saying. Whenever a different character is struggling with something, this character says, verbatim, “You need to be like a duck.”

“A duck?” The other characters respond.

“Yeah—Water off a duck’s back. Quack Quack!”

(Trust me, this is important for the point I’m making.) I don’t tell many people about this story…okay, I don’t tell anybody about this story. It’s silly! And I especially don’t tell them about the weird little saying of his. Why does it matter, right? It’s such a tiny detail for a story nobody but me and one other person cares about.

Well, God showed me how important it was, and my extension, how important I am.

When God Shows Up

This past weekend, I attended a conference on emotional healing. We dove into scripture and got deep into what God says about our pain, our emotional suffering, our tragic backstories, if you will.

I don’t want to speak about this like a victim, because I’m not. It’s a thing that happened to me, but it doesn’t define me—at least, not anymore.

As a teenager, I didn’t make very good choices in friends. They didn’t bully me in the classic, shove your head in a toilet and give you a swirlie, kind of way. It wasn’t stealing your lunch money or beating you up and shoving you in a locker. Maybe if it were I would have been able to recognize it as abuse sooner, who knows? No, it was the holding you down and telling you you’re worthless and refusing to let you up until you verbally agree with them type.

They spoke words over me that were vile. They let the enemy use their mouths to condemn me. And that’s all good and “woe is me“, but I made a vital mistake in this. I began to agree with them. I said, “Yes, those vile words are the truth”.

And that’s when the enemy started to win.

I’ve done a lot of work on getting rid of those lies. Of not letting the enemy abuse me through those people. It’s been a constant, uphill battle—one that I’m tired of. Just when I think I’ve gotten past it, something else pops up, and I realize that there’s a whole other layer I hadn’t recognized that I have to deal with.

So, I’m at this conference, right?

I’ve learned a ton about healing, verses that point me to Jesus, and it’s the last day. The leader of the conference offers to pray for whoever wants it, and I’m all about seeing Jesus move, so I thought, why not get some prayer, right?

So, I go to the front to get some prayer and this leader, Brett, looks at me, smiles, and says, “I think God is telling me that people have spoken horrible things over you, and that God is telling me that those words are going to be like…they’re going to slide off you like water off a ducks back.”

My eyes widen. Brett smiles, then, with a goofy grin, says, “Water off a duck’s back…Quack-Quack!“

Three things became apparent to me at that moment.

1. God knows me deeply.

God could have told Brett anything in that moment. He could have told him to say, “I know you were bullied, and God wants you to let that go.” He could have said literally anything, but God told him to use a specific phrase from a childhood story I’d created…And that phrase got to me more than anything else ever could.

How cool is that? God knows me.

2. My fight isn’t really my fight.

I had a lot of rewiring of my brain to stop agreeing with the words the enemy spoke over me. There are things I need to do (like speak the truth) to stop those lies from spreading. But those words, those evil things that were spoken over me? Jesus died for those things. It’s not my fight—not really. It’s God’s, and he’s got it handled. He’s handling it way better than I ever could!

3. My story is important.

If my story—silly, little, and as insignificant as I believe it to me—was able to minister to me so deeply in that one instance…who else could it help? Who else could benefit from it? Probably at least one other person, right?

The words God gave me are important. The stories that I love that, in the grand scheme of life and salvation, really don’t matter that much—but God says they are still important.

Me, in all of my being, my personality, my flaws, my pain—God thinks it’s important.

And if God thinks it’s important enough to bring up in a healing conference with complete strangers…Maybe I should think of it as important, too.

So, if you’re having trouble with something someone said about you, or even something you said about yourself…be like a duck.

Quack quack!

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