Yesterday morning, I stole out early with my mug of coffee to sit and watch the sunrise. The clouds were tinted pink and orange.
The land was coming awake with birds singing and rays of sun piercing the clouds to reach out over the top of the barn. To my right, the impatiens were blooming along the chicken coop. To the left, the marigolds marched along the garden front, and corn shoots poked up in an orderly row.
“A touch of Heaven.” That’s the phrase that came to me there, surrounded by beauty, as I was thinking over what it is that I do.
Touch of Heaven.
That’s what we bring, you and I, when we do whatever it is we’re called to do with love and passion. According to our unique gifts, abilities, and circumstances, we can offer to the world, to our circle of influence, a touch of Heaven itself.
It doesn’t matter, really, what gifts we’ve been given or what our circumstances are. When we do what we’ve been given to do in spite of monotony, drudgery, insurmountable obstacles, or the seeming smallness of the task, and we are faithful, then we bring something of Heaven down to earth.
Are you weary today in the doing of your daily work? Unconvinced of your effectiveness? Doubtful that in the end, it really matters?
Oh, it matters, my friend. It matters.
The smallest task done with love is infused with the breath of the eternal. It makes a difference. It is noticed. It will be rewarded. And it counts.