In the Sunday morning rush, we have eaten and dressed. We have brushed teeth and brushed hair. We have found missing shoes and sent children one by one into their room to collect their Bibles.
When they were younger, my kids needed help with every… little…thing in the morning routine. Now, at least, I am primarily keeper of the clock and pourer of the milk for those too little to do so without spilling.
Finally, with all the children fed and clothed, I retreat to my bedroom for my own prep time. I’m brushing my own teeth while hunting in the closet for my other shoe and watching the clock out of the corner of my eye.
Time’s up. We head out the door to load up the minivan.
That’s when I see the two freshly filled water bottles on the counter.
One is my husband’s.
The other is mine.
This is his Sunday morning gift to me. Almost every week while I’m showering and dressing, my husband retrieves my near-empty plastic bottle from my nightstand and he fills it up with fresh water while he is filling up his own.
It’s the tiniest act of kindness, and yet it means a great deal.
This is a little self-sacrificial thoughtfulness, a gesture of remembering and of noticing my need, an offer of help without even asking.
I feel loved and cared for.
Yes, by this simple thing, the refilling of water, I am refreshed with love.
There are other acts of kindness, of course, and hopefully they go both ways. Me serving him. Him serving me. Secretly filled gas tanks. A milkshake after a long day. Trash taken out. Cards hidden. Lunches made.
Love thrives on the simplest, most daily acts of consideration and thoughtfulness. That’s because it’s far more natural to slip, slip, slip into forgetting, and selfishness, and taking for granted.
I wait until we arrive at church, and then I halt our dash into the brick building with four kids in tow for just a moment to say, “Thanks. Thanks for filling my water bottle.”
Because kindness deserves noticing. Kindness deserves gratitude.
In Acts 9, widows crowded around Peter to tell him of their sorrow. Their dear friend, Tabitha (also known as Dorcas), had died, and they missed her.
Scripture says she was “full of good works and acts of charity” (Acts 9:36 ESV). The widows “stood beside him (Peter) weeping and showing tunics and other garments that Dorcas made while she was with them” (verse 39).
Maybe it seemed like such a small thing when she was alive: A garment here, a tunic there. Dorcas spent time sewing and then gave her gifts to the widows, the poorest around her. She didn’t give millions of dollars. She didn’t run a charity house for the destitute or organize a worldwide effort against poverty.
Tabitha did small things for the people near to her. She served God in the way that she could.
Her kindness was her legacy. It was the evidence the widows offered to Peter for why he should raise her from the dead—and that’s the miracle that happened that day.
Robert Morgan wrote:
The little things we do are bigger than the great things we do; and how wonderful to learn the importance of the sacred ordinary (All to Jesus).
I read this morning about a family’s wild jaunt of a day filled with random acts of kindness. They carried flowers to nursing home residents and paid for strangers’ groceries and left dollars on the dollar store shelves.
They had the best time spreading kindness like a million tiny seeds all over their small town and then letting it grow and bloom into kindness in others.
What a glorious thing.
But I’m reminded today that random acts of kindness aren’t just for strangers or neighbors. Too often we forget the “random acts of kindness” we can offer within our own families.
Maybe for some of us, bitterness, anger, and hurt over ingratitude make kindness feel like an impossible challenge, a chasm we just can’t cross. But that is when the kindness is the hardest sacrifice we could offer.
This is the offering we give. We take the time to notice a need. We make an effort to reach outside of ourselves to help another. We put aside our agenda in order to love people first and foremost.
Along the way, we rediscover how truly kind God is to us even when we ourselves didn’t deserve it:
But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit (Titus 3:4-5 ESV).