Small beginnings

Zechariah 4:10 NLT

Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.

Why do we fear small beginnings?   Maybe because of the uncertainty they bring.

What will I say to others when they ask what I’m doing?

In the words of Brené Brown, this is a shame gremlin for me.

These are the questions that nag at me when I’ve moved out of that dreaming space with God and into the everyday motion of walking out the dream:

Are we really going somewhere with this?

Did I really hear him on this?

Will this amount to anything?

But the real question for me is one of faith: Can I have the sustained patience and vision to invest small deposits of faithful action, believing God to multiply and take care of the rest?

On this journey of really allowing myself the space to dream with God, not letting anything hold me back from taking the next indicated step, I have seen my good Father cultivating new life in me: in deeper faith and in truer worship.

He is cultivating faith through my small beginnings, the deep conviction that progress is possible. As I turn back to his heart each day, he is showing me how to take small steps—even half and quarter steps—toward the dream he’s placed in me.

As a new mom of a ten-month-old boy, never have I understood how important small, patient steps toward a goal can be. The sum total of these small steps is beautiful because he walks with me, before and behind me, trailblazing, holding me up, and picking up the pieces I’ve dropped along the way.

Do you relate to this feeling? Have you ever seen God’s nearness more dramatically because the output of what he creates is so evidently beyond what you put in?

As a visionary for a new organization for women in leadership, I stand amazed. All I can give in this season are small deposits—one hour of writing while the baby naps. 15 minutes of reflection before sleep overtakes me. Webinars while I bounce the baby on one hip and stir the pot that boils over. And yet these small snatches of time are perfectly tailored to his purposes for me. They are just the insight and refreshment I need to do the next thing.

Do you need to hear this today? Do you need to hear that his provision perfectly matches your days?

I know I’ve needed to live out this lesson over the last year. And it has peppered my days of early motherhood with such hope and purpose and beauty. A legacy I hope to build for my children by saying yes to Jesus in every season. This season of greater limitations in time, energy, and attention span is leading me to greater worship when his sufficiency stands in stark contrast to my own limited resources.

Sisters, I am learning that our limitations lead us to worship him. They do not disqualify us from dreaming with him and stepping out in our dreams. Limitations can keep us in step with his spirit, relying on him, abiding in his wisdom and heart.

How good he is to use these loving limits to remove my pride again, so I can experience his magnitude. All I am is simple, fragile, limited. But I’m a daughter of the king. All I am is an earthen vessel with holes and cracks that spill and leak. But he overflows into me with water that is deep, complex, profound, never running dry.

I praise him for this journey.

-Sarah

Sarah Bond resides in Folsom, CA, with her husband, Scott, and son, Ethan. She loves forging new connections with women of all ages, especially by leading hikes, opening her home to neighbors and friends, and creating relationships that promote social justice and bring freedom in places of spiritual and physical captivity. Sarah’s background is in community development, life coaching, and human trafficking prevention. This January, she and her mom, Jan Kern, launched a new organization for women in leadership called  Voice of Courage. She loves to invite women of all ages to dream in new ways about what God is inviting them to walk out freely and powerfully as change makers.