The opening to an article I read recently referred to the explosion of the Challenger Space Shuttle. He said this:
After months of investigation, here’s what the Rogers Commission…discovered: an o-ring seal in the right solid rocket booster failed at take-off. I won’t bore you with the details, but an o-ring is a small device relative to the size of a space shuttle. Very small. It wasn’t something huge, like a puncture in the rocket booster or a hole in the cabin, that caused this disaster. It was a small, seemingly insignificant, o-ring failure.
The author goes on to make his point, but it was the illustration that was of particular value to me. I was reminded again of the importance of little things. The littlest things. The one, single o-ring that can take down the entire rocket ship. They’re everywhere. And I am not immune to them or their influence. No one is.
A little thing goes wrong. A friend brings up a “concern” about something. Eric and I have an honest conversation about how things are going. One of my kids lets slip a struggle they are having. I wrestle…again…with something in my life, at church, in the news.
They’re little things, all by themselves. But instead of taking them seriously, I often overlook them. Again.
It’s the Bible verse, “Let him who thinks he stands take heed, lest he fall.” That’s the good old KJV version, of course. A more modern version says, “You’re not exempt. You could fall flat on your face as easily as anyone else.”
And there it is: I could fall flat on my face as easily as anyone else.
My plans aren’t foolproof. My marriage isn’t fireproof. My kids aren’t untouchable. Whatever “it” is…I have to admit the truth.
It.could.happen.to.me.
A year or so ago, a family member was taken to the emergency room with chest pains. The doctor told him he’d had a “warning” heart attack and that he was lucky. Most people don’t get a warning.
The same is true in life.
Sometimes we can avoid greater calamity by paying close attention to the little things, the o-rings. Maybe that’s what Paul meant in the very next verse when he said, “God will give you a way out.” There is an escape hatch. And while, in the context of the verse, God is clearly the provider of that escape…how often, honestly, is our escape directly related to the little things?
The small voice nudging me either to act or to be quiet, to hold my temper, to give grace. Choosing not to defend myself and my actions and instead to pray honestly about where I’m on dangerous ground. Acknowledging that my priorities may be off and seriously assessing what I’m prioritizing over my husband, my kids, my reputation. Humbling myself to listen instead of refusing to hear truth when it’s spoken to me, by the Spirit, my husband, my friends, my kids.
The warning signals are there. And it’s up to me to take the escape route.
I can blow it off. I can put the “scheduled maintenance” off for a more opportune moment. Or I can stop and check on the o-rings. I can evaluate, realign my priorities, pray over my kids and my family, deny myself. And take seriously the reality that it can happen to me.
The truth is, the little things are always there. And when all is running smoothly, they’re fine. But when they go bad, it can be catastrophic. So what do I do? I have to stop. And listen. And submit. Before the explosion occurs.
That way, when the crisis moment comes (and I never know when that’s going to be), I will have already addressed the weak points in my armor, my plan, my perspective. And I may just be able to avoid seeing my whole life go down in a ball of flames.
That’s the power of the little things.
