I am drawn to small things. Bouquets of tiny wild flowers are more apt to find their way onto the old kitchen table than a more flamboyant mix of larger blooms. Tiny tea sets make their way onto the shelves of the old hutch my father crafted. I hunt for little salt cellars in antique shops and flea markets. I cannot resist diminutive china animals and birds.
How is then I find it so difficult to find the beauty in being small myself. Oh, not my physical size to be sure. The me that resides inside. The self that prays to become less yet fights this longing for "bigness." The size that says I matter to you and your opinion of me is of utmost importance.
He, who is larger than anything I can possibly imagine, looks at this "bigness" stuffed inside the small and gently reminds me that I am perfect in His sight. Just the right size - even in my smallness.
I'm hopping over to Lisa-Jo's to add my small post to the others. Won't you join us?