day 13, 14, 15 // liturgy of the little things
I saw a fellow Little Things liturgist post about how she was resisting the urge to “catch up” on days she has not shared, and I want to reiterate that this practice is by no means a checking of the boxes. The aim is not a numerical outcome.
We participate when and how we can in order to pay attention to our lives and extend that goodness to one another. We look and see and pause and share not to tally points, but to cultivate a way of being—a way of noticing God and finding joy in the small, often overlooked spaces and faces, right where we are. It is a practice of both pursuit and surrender.
Because on some days, we see clearer than others, goodness oozing from every direction. We want to shout and dance and share. But on other days, we may find we need to stay silent, to hold that sacredness close like a divine secret and a prayer. And then, some days may look a little more like night, and we find ourselves holding our breath until morning. But instead of straining our eyes against the endless black, we can simply sit back and let others see on our behalf.
There’s no one way to do this outside of looking for little things as vessels of goodness and leaning in—when and how and how often you can. Because the end is not performance, but permission to dig our toes deeper into the sand.
PS: If you’re new to Liturgy of the Little Things, you are welcome to jump in anytime. You’re welcome to comment here or create a post of your own. (You’ll find my last few days below.) We keep things casual, but I would love to walk together in some way, if it makes sense for you in this season. (There are a few more details about the practice in this post, in case you need a little more context.) Glad you found us!
day 13
Seesters and sushi.
day 14
I wanted to mark this moment—the small pause before I hit Send. It’s been equally strange and delightful to make the final changes on my book and to see how far it has come from the whisper of an idea. This book has become a friend. Intimate. Kind. Deeply challenging. And today I’m keenly aware it is a friend I am growing eager to pass along and to watch as it sprouts legs and finds its way in the world.
day 15
I’ve been looking around at our home lately, seeing all the things that need to be done. All the ways it’s starting to reveal its age. We’ve never lived in a house this long, so while Ben and I are both in our forties, we are still figuring out basic rhythms of upkeep and putting aside dollars for when things inevitably need replaced. But our little home is being so patient with us. And today as I took the boys to school I paused to take this picture, reminding myself of why we loved this place in the beginning and of all the ways it continues to love us back.