They’re tired. The coats and the hats and the mittens and gloves, the boots and the leggings and windbreakers are tired. It’s the middle of winter and there’s no end in sight to the snow. So the mittens? They just give up sometimes.

Small Son’s mittens gave up in a big way. Those turquoise and black things sported a big gash down the side of each thumb.  Another storm was coming and I knew the mittens wouldn’t hold up for another day.

On the way home from picking up our children after a week of them being on Cape Island, I suggested that we stop and pick up some mittens. So we stopped- three times. Three department stores. Three employees telling me the same thing. Three times the same scene:

The stores were full of bathing suits and scuba gear and rain jackets and all sorts of summer wear. The employees said, “Sorry, we’re all out of winter gear. No mittens left. No, we won’t be getting any more in stock.”

I felt like I was in Florida, like somehow it suddenly wasn’t the middle of winter in Maritime Canada and all of the stores were selling bathing suits because summer was so close you could feel it. Or not.

I’ll admit, I was frustrated. “The middle of winter in Canada, and not a glove or mitten to be found!” I exclaimed to my patient husband who had waited three times while I circled three stores three times in about 20 minutes time.

I could feel the pull of satan- “get upset.” And there was the pull of the Holy Spirit- “pray.”

“Pray” won over and I told my Father that my Small Son needed gloves. I may have even reminded Him that this was indeed a need, and not just a want. And I may have reminded Him of the storm that was coming that night, just in case He forgot what kind of weather He had scheduled. 🙂 And then I told Small Son that we would pray for God to provide new mittens for him.

Later that evening as I was unpacking suitcases and putting away clothes, I heard Small Son’s voice, “Mom, look what I found!”

I turned and saw in his hands a pair of mittens- black and red. No gash in the thumb and they’d never seen winter. They weren’t tired. They were brand new. I had never seen them before. I still have no idea where they came from or how they got in his closet. {I also have no idea what prompted him to clean up his closet!}

You know that saying “It’s the little things?”  Not a cliche. The little things are tokens of love- sunshiny drops of blessing from a Father Who whispers, “I see. I care. I know.”

The little things mean so much because they show how intimately and personally you are known by another. It’s when someone remembers your favourite colour or flavour of tea or an important date in your life.  It’s when someone shows up with your favourite chocolate or hands you a blanket at their house because they know you’re always cold. It’s when someone says “I appreciate {you fill in the blank}. That meant the world to me” and it’s something you thought was insignificant.

It’s God. It’s when He shines through the gloom and shows you He’s there in a way you can’t mistake. It’s when He clears your bursting schedule with a snow storm and gives you time to rest and read and relax in bubbles piled high. It’s when He teaches you something through the mouths of your babes. It’s when a simple truth dawns in your heart in a fresh way. It’s when He unmistakably provides for the things you convince yourself He doesn’t concern Himself with.

These are the every day miracles. On the rough days, the little things are splashes of grace on a weary heart. On the smooth days, the little things are tokens from a God Who is saying, “Enjoy Me.”

And so I smile. I rejoice with Small Son- talk about how God answered our prayers. And then I start looking again…for little things. There are thousands more to come, and I don’t want to miss a single one.

Let’s Chat: Have you seen God shine through the little things lately? I’d love to hear about it! Let’s enjoy God together in the comments. 🙂

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