We live obsessed with the big things: the big event, the big achievement, the big audience. But the culture of a spiritual home, that atmosphere of peace and faith we so long for, is not built on milestones, but on the miracle of inhabiting the small.
Jesus himself chose the small things. His public life was not centered on palaces, but on forgotten villages, on intimate conversations, on meals shared with friends and strangers. He understood that the eternal is revealed, almost always, in the everyday.
How can we cultivate this art in our own home?
1. Develop a "photographer's eye"
As Erika teaches us through her camera, it's not just about seeing, but about noticing. It's an intentional act of gratitude. Learn to notice the details you take for granted: how the afternoon sunlight streams in and illuminates the dust motes, the sound of rain against the window, the texture of your favorite blanket, the taste of your first sip of coffee. When you pause to notice, you pause to give thanks. You are looking for God's signature in the details of your day.
2. Create "transition rituals"
Our souls become exhausted when we rush from one task to the next without pause. Transition rituals are small, sacred "margins" we create within our day. They aren't about "doing nothing," they are about intentionally "being." A ritual can be as simple as calmly preparing a cup of tea, paying attention to the sound of the water and the aroma. It can be sitting quietly for five minutes in your car before entering your home to let go of work stress. Or it can be the act of writing down three things you are grateful for before going to sleep. These rituals are anchors that bring us back to the present and give our souls space to breathe.
3. Celebrate "enough"
The culture of a home is quickly eroded by haste and the poison of comparison. The desire for "more"—a bigger house, newer furniture, a more exciting life—robs us of the joy of what we already have. To inhabit the small is to find profound joy in "enough." It is to celebrate a simple dinner as if it were a banquet. It is to value an unhurried conversation more than a social event. It is to find rest in the silence of a tidy room. "Enough" is not a word of resignation; it is a word of deep peace, it is the joy of receiving manna just for today.
The world seeks ostentatious grandeur, but God reveals Himself in simplicity. Small things are not insignificant; they are the place where our hearts learn, day by day, to recognize His presence.