Were you one of the highly impressionable, highly motivated, highly committed young people who was determined to “do great things for God” when you were younger?

I remember those days.

Nothing was good enough unless it was God’s best. No career choice was weighed unless it wouldn’t interfere with the possibility of mission work. No potential spouse was good enough unless he or she were even more “on fire” than you.

The best day ever was one spent in nature with a guitar and a Bible and prayer journal and coffee and perhaps a friend. (This was before Instagram, so you couldn’t even document that it happened.)

You were determined you would spend your life poured out in great ways, with great results, with great people.

Then what happened?

Well, we got married and worked full time jobs and bought a house and lost jobs and started new careers and had kids and served in church and kept on living life.

I used to wonder sometimes whether I’d missed something.

Where are these great things? Is there a better way to live? Am I doing what I am supposed to be doing? Shouldn’t we be missionaries or feeding the homeless or inviting the underprivileged kids in our neighborhood in for cookies every Saturday?

Shouldn’t we have more proof of our faith? Are there things we should be doing to make our ordinary life feel more like those old mountaintops?

Here I am, nearly 2 decades later, married to a wonderful hard-working man, with 2 kids in school, an infant who thinks naps are for losers, a messy house, a PTA membership, a minor blog, a handful of real, soul-level friends, and a loving church family.

Where’s the “greatness” in that?

I’ll tell you what, it’s everywhere, if you have eyes to see it.

Several years ago I read the small, inexpensive, and wonderful book, The God of the Mundane. Good old Amazon carries it. (Not an affiliate link. I don’t know how to do that yet.) In the book, Matt B. Redmond reexamines our perspective of what a life lived for the glory of God may look like. It simply asks whether there is a God available to us who may not live a traditional “ministry” life.

That’s me! Non-traditional ministry.

Just a mom.

Just a grocery shopper. Just a pretty sucky bathroom cleaner and dog feeder. Just a phone talker and dishwasher unloader. Just a pray-er and an encourager. Just a juice pourer, and a who-can-have-a-turn-with-the-tablet-this-time-administrator.

Just doing what I can to … make it every day.

Just asking for the grace to see what’s actually going on around us and constantly reminding myself to stand in the truth.

What are the greater things?

Are they just doing, as Mother Teresa said, “small things with great love”?

Listen. You don’t have to do the big things.

Your ministry might be showing up to your job every day when you’re supposed to, being honest, being kind, and praying for the people you rub shoulders with while you’re there. It could be trusting God to bring in that account and salvage this mess and make every hour productive to prove Himself faithful when your manager expects you to be a workaholic like he is.

Your ministry might be like mine–that of cutting crusts off of sandwiches and moving clothes through the stages of worn to washed and prayerfully pointing the delicate hearts of your children to their heavenly Father.

Your ministry may be caring for your ailing family member, meeting regularly with health care personnel and doling out medicines while expectantly keeping your eyes fixed on the Great Physician.

Your ministry may be working with customers and managers and hot plates while you ask Jesus to bless your aching feet and sparse tips.

In any case, the opportunities are great, not because they are official and church-sanctioned, but because God is great and can infuse his grace to turn daily sacrifices of love, service, and prayer into fruitful, purposeful, eternal treasures.

And you know what? When you do the little things that He’s called you to, Jesus does multiply them into powerful things. Everything done in faith has an impact on eternity. And your faithfulness in the little things makes room for bigger things.

He knows where you are, what you’re doing, and most importantly, He knows what He’s doing in the reaches of your little world. You are there for His purpose, to extend hope, love, and peace in every interaction.

We cling to Him so that we have something to offer. We offer Him. He is the greater thing.

Christ in you, the hope of glory.