That little jingle keeps going through my head whenever I wail, "But the BLAAWWG!" (That's "blog," in wailing parlance.) Things have just been busy around here, what with editing work (Yes, I have a side business! Let me edit your next book.), attempts to homeschool (now well-devolved into unschool), and continued physical therapy on the ever-improving back.
These are all very little things, punctuated every five minutes by even littler things: diapers, a spilled drink, a toothache, a phone call.
Before the demands of these littlest things, writing swells in my mind into some Great and Wonderful Work. If only I could sweep aside all these little, insignificant tasks, and Really Do Something. If only I could read that book I've been eying for three weeks, then surely Something Great would transpire in my soul!
I note my desperation. I recognize the frustration.
And then I can say, "Get thee behind me, Satan. There are no little things. Every task is different in kind, but not in greatness."
St. Josemaria Escriva writes,
"Do everything for love. In that way, there will be no little things: everything will be big. Perseverance in the little things for love is heroism." (~no. 813, The Way)
Amen. And now I must break up a fight over whether Daddy's birthday comes every year or every week.