Faithfulness with Small Things Is the Precursor to Bigger Things

It was on a sunny Sunday afternoon some years ago that I experienced a life-altering moment. I was serving as the pastor of a small church in East Tennessee. To say things were challenging during that season of our lives would be an understatement. 

We were a young married couple with two small children, and it was our first pastorate.  We believed good things would happen, that God would help us raise up a growing congregation. While preaching during our first Sunday, I declared, “This church will have revival.” Immediately, and to my surprise, the Lord said, “And you will be a part of it.”

At the time, I didn’t fully understand what God meant. I thought I would lead the church to experience the revival God had promised us. A few years later, having felt led to resign and go elsewhere, I would come to learn what God meant when He said, “We would be a part of it.” He meant we would be a part… of it. Our primary role during our pastorate was that of sowing. In time, the church experienced the revival God had promised. But that took place after we had moved on.

During our time of pastorate, the church would experience growth and then decline. Then growth again and again decline. The cycle of growth and decline took place several times over the course of a few years. I continued to believe what God had spoken, and in our times of difficulty maintained an overall good spirit. I had a word from God—the church would experience revival. However, from time-to-time, there were moments of frustration and that Sunday afternoon was one of them.

We had sacrificed a great deal and did so willingly. We considered it to be an honor. Hence, my frustration had nothing to do with our sacrifice; the root of my frustration was my feeling as though I was the only one—the only one who was truly sacrificing, the only one who saw the vision, the only one who was carrying the load of ministry, and so on. I had developed an Elijah syndrome—believing I was alone in my level of commitment. I could not have been more wrong. God had given us a few leaders who were incredible people who were also sacrificed and who saw the vision.

What took place that Sunday afternoon altered the way I viewed my role as a pastor, alleviated my feelings of frustration, and gave me direction in how to lead others. In the years since I have also come to discover that it had a much more significant impact on my life than I could have ever realized.

It all took place while I was mowing the yard. I was somewhat talking with God—I say “somewhat” because I was saying things to God but wasn’t expecting to hear anything in return. I was complaining. Surprisingly, God spoke to me within the context of my complaints. I said, “I don’t have to be here. I don’t have to be putting up with all of this. I could be somewhere else, full time in the ministry. But here I am. And I am here because I believe this is where You want me to be.” I then added, “All I want to do is train leaders.”

I don’t know what it was about leadership development at the time that appealed to me, other than God placing the desire in my heart. Much to my surprise, however, God spoke. He said, “Train them.”

A proper response would probably have been something along the lines as, “Yes, Lord. Thy servant heareth, and thy servant will be well pleased in doing what you have instructed me to do,” or something similar. Instead, and I didn’t hesitate, I replied, “Yeah, right. We have what, four or five leaders?” as though somehow the small number of leaders would exempt me from doing anything. My attitude and thinking were wrong. God, however, responded, “If you are faithful with the little things, I will give you bigger things.”

Those words changed my life. “Be faithful with the little things, and I will give you bigger things.” I made God a promise—I will train leaders; I will be faithful with the small things. I couldn’t have imagined at the time how my life would change, but change it did, and I am forever grateful for it.

The Greatness of a Pawn

Most people seem to struggle with understanding the value of small things. We want to do great things, but do not translate how small things result in big things. One of the first hurdles that must be conquered, if we are to achieve great things, is our desire to be great.

Consider the game of chess, one of the most popular games in the world. Two players, each beginning with sixteen pieces of six kinds, move chess pieces according to fixed rules across a checkerboard to checkmate the opponent’s king. The sixteen pieces of six types comprise one king, one queen, two bishops, two knights, two rooks, and eight pawns. Each of the pieces represents a value, the most valuable being the king. When the king cannot move, the game is over. The queen is the next most valuable piece. However, the game can still be played even after a queen has been captured. The value of the bishops, knights, and rooks is relatively equal and mostly determined by the game situation. The pawns are the least valuable chess pieces.

Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines pawn as “one that can be used to further the purposes of another.” In the game of chess, this is precisely the role that a pawn fulfills. Pawns are expendable and are often sacrificed for a more valuable piece.

Like Naaman, in II Kings 5:1-19, there is a willingness to be called upon to do great things. But what about things that do not lead to greatness? What about things that cause others to think less of me? Am I willing to decrease? Am I willing to be used to further the purposes of another? Am I willing to be a pawn? These are the types of questions we must consider if we are going to be a part of something bigger than self.

Unfortunately, most people have little interest in fulfilling the role of a pawn. Most people are interested in self-preservation, not in sacrifice. In getting ahead, not in taking a backseat. In being served, not in serving. Consequently, gentleness and humility are less than desirable traits compared to charisma and leadership ability. And yet Christ described himself as that of the former. (See Matthew 11:29.) 

These are the traits we are supposed to exhibit. Paul says, in Philippians 2:3-4, “Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than themselves. Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others.” But instead of kindness and humility, we want power; we want to do great things. We do not want to be a pawn.

Jesus instructed his disciples not to focus on being great. Instead, they were to focus on being a servant. The disciples struggled to comprehend His teachings. Like us, they probably understood it intellectually, but deep within, that was a different matter. In the heat of the moment, what is inside is always manifested. Hence, when the disciples learned that the mother of James and John had suggested to Jesus that her sons should be seated immediately to the left and right of Jesus, the disciples were upset. What Jesus had been teaching them did not guide their response. His kingdom was spiritual in substance, but at the moment, status on earth seemed to matter much more. Sadly, such things as earthly status often dominates us too.

Paul, in his letter to the church in Corinth, dealt with similar circumstances. The saints were openly talking about whom they were aligning themselves, as though it was a status symbol. “I am of Paul,” said some. Others were saying they were of Apollos or Cephas. And yet others, with an even higher spiritual smugness, were saying they were of Christ. They were saying, in so many words, that they did not need the body of Christ because they had their very own special connection. Paul corrected the church and sought to put to stop “hero” worship. The people were acting in a way that was displeasing to God. By one Spirit, they had all been baptized into one body, but the way the church members were acting, Paul remarked, they were cutting the body into pieces.

Unfortunately, in some ways, little has changed. Instead of Christ being the center of the church, we have placed man at the center. Rather than embrace small things, we are chasing after great things. If we aren’t big enough to be the center, we find someone else who we think is big enough, another leader, another minister, someone with more charisma, more exceptional talent, and so on. We would never admit it, of course, but our actions reveal it all the same. We create heroes out of others, attaching ourselves to them, in vain attempts to rise above the mundane. We pursue greatness and do so the wrong way. The right way, according to Jesus, is to embrace and appreciate small things.

Jim Collins, in Good to Great, showcases the foundation in which great things are accomplished. Based on his research of leaders who led good organizations to become great organizations, Collins states the “leaders never wanted to become larger-than-life heroes,” instead, they “were seemingly ordinary people quietly producing extraordinary results.” People who ended up doing great things were those who do not focus on doing great things. They were focused on doing small things.

What if we were to embrace small things? What if we were able to find value in the little things more than we did big things? I believe the result would be that we would end up achieving great things after all.