We are hosting a wedding in our backyard in less than a month, so there’s A LOT of work to do. And I’m learning this week that it’s very hard to do the quiet things well.
It isn’t as hard, really, to do the big, flashy things. Not that they aren’t hard work. They are.
In the last two months, we’ve dug ditches and hauled stones and built major landscape projects from scratch. In July in Ohio – think 90+ degrees and serious humidity. It was hard work.
But even the hard parts had a glamour to them. I mean, we’ve achieved major changes in only a few weeks. We cut down a huge tree and hauled it out of the way and then watched as big machines changed the actual shape of our property, filling in the basement holes left from both an old house and a doublewide. They regraded everything and moved mountains of dirt. It was so fun to watch, and the change was instantaneous.
The building of walls and stairs was all us. Hard work with shovels and a mattock and dirt filled with chunks of sandstone that we had to break up and move. We hauled and placed sandstone blocks weighing anywhere from 400 lbs. to 1000 lbs. into a level terrace wall. Landscape timbers were cut and nailed in place (that was all Eric). And slowly, day after day, we have crafted a lovely new shape that make our hills more accessible and attractive.
But now, it’s August. And the to-do lists have split. Eric has to finish the stairs and a basement bathroom. And do all the landscaping in a couple of weeks. And more details I’m totally unaware of.
But me? I’m working inside. Slowly and painstakingly working my way across the basement to clean and organize it to the point that we can put wedding food there at the end of the month. And it is not glamorous. Or fun. Or rewarding.
My to-do list is the quiet work that no one sees. They won’t notice it, unless I don’t do it. And I’m learning that it’s harder to do the quiet things well.
Turns out, I like the big, flashy chores because I get the “instant” gratification of working hard and accomplishing a visible something. A clean basement (especially one that’s going to have to be cleaned repeatedly before the actual wedding day) doesn’t have the same power to motivate me.
So I’ve struggled to get on with it this week. Clean the basement? Bleh.
But it is happening. Slowly I am making progress. To do the quiet things well brings a different reward. A patient, disciplined chipping away at my ego and my love of praise so that I can become more like the Jesus who did all the quiet things, as well as the big, flashy ones, because of love. Because of grace.
So I’ll keep cleaning. And it will be a lovely result sometime at the end of the month. And I’ll probably hear a “thank you” or two when I’m done.
But that isn’t really the point. It’s good–and hard–to do the quiet things well. Because I, like you, learn more valuable lessons as I accomplish them.
