It is funny how life works, how little tiffs can turn into huge revelations, understandings, self-discoveries, or reinforcements. That is exactly what happened recently in my life.

A little tiff didn’t stay so little. It blew up, leading to possible shifts in future landscapes and relational ties. It made me completely assess life’s fragility and how quickly things can change. While that alone is a profound takeaway, there was an even deeper lesson embedded in the experience. One that I didn’t see coming.

The Moment That Gave Me Pause

It was a normal day under slightly unusual circumstances. A decisive choice made by someone significant in my life gave me pause. It didn’t move me immediately, but it played upon my conscience. I didn’t get it in that moment. Instead, it worked on my spirit, and I found myself reflecting deeply.

You see, when small things become big matters, it forces reflection. In this case, it bore a reflection on stewardship. Initially, I was upset about how a small thing was dealt with. But in that realization, I pondered that future proclivities are encoded in minute experiences. It is often how we deal with small things that serves as a great determinant of how we deal with larger ones.

We just don’t always recognize it until something shakes us awake.

This realization made me think of the things we ask for in life. At first glance, this shift seemed like a weird leap, as if there is no shared parallelism. But the connection became clear the more I sat with it. And once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.

Stewardship Begets Expansion

The situation was teaching me that preparedness in small matters is what determines our readiness for bigger ones. This truth is not new, but sometimes we need to be reminded of what we already know.

My mind reeled back to a time in life when I was in want of a space of my own. I would pray to the heavens for a bigger house. I knew what I wanted, but wasn’t aware of the price of receiving that.

Then one day, that wish wasn’t a wish anymore. It was real. I looked around at everything I had been blessed with, and it hit me. It was more than I could have imagined years earlier when I asked for something more. Now I stood in that ask. I was living in that prayer. It had materialized.

But here’s the thing. With larger spaces comes larger commitments. Greater gifts require greater responsibility. However, after normalcy settled in, there were times I would complain. I complained about the dishes or the labor of maintenance. But why? Why would I complain about something that I once wished for but now lived in?

The truth is, I had become blinded by living in an expanded state. I had grown comfortable with the bigger, having closed some distance from what used to be. But complaining is dissatisfaction. A complaint is the absence of gratitude. And gratitude is the very thing that keeps the door open.

At moments of clarity, I was reminded: to whom much is given, much is expected. Part of receiving the gift and keeping it is maintaining it. Why ask for more when you can barely tend to what you have?

Possessing the Gift

This led me to think about how I had managed to now be living what I once desired. And in that reflection, I understood something important. It wasn’t given to me until I showed myself worthy of taking care of what I already had. It wasn’t given until I invested care into what was already in my possession and acted in gratitude for what was present, not waiting for some obscure point in the future to express thankfulness.

By reason of remembrance, I understood that what I have received is a gift. I needed to recognize it and treat it as such. That means not being ill-mannered about the things required to maintain what I now possess.

So yes, I have more floors to clean. That is the cost of wanting more. But cleaning my floors should not be done begrudgingly. It should be done with the utmost gratitude. After all, there was a time when having my own floors to clean was only a dream, and a fervent one at that. And as quickly as something can be given, it can be taken away. That reality alone should keep me humble.

Reframing the Work

I have heard it said in one of the lectures I attended that it is our mindset that determines everything. I believe that to be true now more than ever.

When we reframe our perspective of things, seeing what we have to do by reason of what is entrusted to us, whether jobs, children, or material possessions, as things we get to do, it transforms our entire relationship with those things. We treat them better. We hold them with greater adoration. We cherish the work because we realize that whatever labor comes along with it is in and of itself a gift.

Because here is the truth: expansion does not negate effort. It often requires more. The pit comes along with the parcel. And if we are not prepared to embrace that, we are not prepared for the blessing at all.

Something Worth Sharing

It was funny how a small tiff made me think of these things. What started as a moment of frustration turned into a moment of clarity. The lesson was profound, and it gave me something to share.

In a nutshell, it is as important to act with gratitude, love, respect, and generosity with small things as it is with large things. How can you want more when you do not care for what you have? It is antithetical. The way we steward the little is the very thing that opens the door to the much. And that is a truth worth holding onto.