Big Picture - Little Things

Today I want to share two stories with you, one from my personal life and the other, a story that touched my heart.

I hope that these stories will give you something to think about through the week.

My youngest daughter is in the 10th grade and studying hard for her exams which are due the end of this month.

A couple of days back she walked into my office, sat next to me and said, "I find history so difficult. It's full of names, some of which I have difficulty pronouncing and remembering.

" I thought back to the days when I was studying history and the trouble I had with it. I was reminded of two events I had watched then, and how they had helped me understand history.
The first was a 'Sound and Light' event in Delhi that brought forth all the historical facts that are part of our heritage; and the other was the movie 'Gandhi'.
So I said to my daughter, "Let's watch this movie together.
I think it will give you a context for history." We sat together and spent 3 hours watching Richard Attenborough's classic movie 'Gandhi". And as we were watching it, she suddenly exclaimed! "Ah! That makes sense.

This is what I studied." As the movie went on, there were similar exclamations that came from her. At the end of the movie, she was excited about finding context for some of the things that she was studying.
As I watched her walk away to take up her history books again with a renewed sense of energy, I thought to myself, how important it is for us to have a context for what we do. Sometimes we can get so myopic in our thinking; or go so deep into detail with the things that we are doing, that we forget that there is a larger picture that can help us understand what we're doing, why we're doing it and why it is important.
I remember a professor warning me in terms of preparing speeches.
He said, "Be careful about research, because when you do research, you tend to go deeper and deeper, mining into different facts till finally you are left with a whole lot of small things.

Those small things are what must contribute to the larger mosaic or the greater picture that you are looking at. Otherwise they become insignificant and have no meaning.
" My daughter brought that point home to me this past week, when she brought her history problem to me.
It is vital to be able to understand context with regard to our work, or else work, which is just one area of our life, has the possibility of consuming too many hours of the day, without contribution to our life as a whole.

We need to ask ourselves, "Why am I doing the things that I am doing? What use is it to me? How does it fit into the greater picture of my family or my children or my parents - the significant people in my life? What does my work mean in the larger context of my life?" The second thought that I wanted to put into your minds has to do with context again but not forgetting some of the smaller details in our lives.

I want to share with you a story written by Robert Fulghum in his book 'It was on Fire when I lay down on it'.
Speaking about the time when his little girl brought his lunch packet to him Fulghum says, "When she came of school age she became an enthusiastic participant in packing the morning lunches for herself, her brothers and me.

Each bag got a share of sandwiches, milk, apples, money and sometimes a note or a treat.

One morning, Molly handed me 2 bags as I was about to leave; one regular bag and one with duct tape, staples and paper clips.

" "Why two bags?" "The other one is something else.
" "What's in it?" "Just some stuff - take it with you." "Not wanting to hold court over the matter, I stuffed both sacks into my briefcase, kissed the child and rushed off.

At midday while hurriedly consuming my real lunch, I tore open Molly's bag and shook out the contents - 2 hair ribbons, 3 small stones, a plastic dinosaur, a pencil stub, a tiny seashell, 2 animal crackers, a marble, a used lipstick, a small doll, 2 chocolate kisses and 13 pennies.
" "I smiled. How charming.
Rising up to hustle off to the all important business of the afternoon, I swept the desk clean into the waste basket - leftover lunch, Molly's junk and all.

There wasn't anything in there that I needed.

" "But that evening Molly came to stand beside me while I was reading the paper.
" "Where's my bag?' "What bag?" "You know; the one I gave you this morning." "I left it at the office.
Why?" "I forgot to put this note in it." She hands over the note.
"Besides, I want it back.
" "Why?" "Those are my things in the sack, the ones I really like.

I thought you might like to play with them, but now I want them back.
You didn't lose the bag, did you, Daddy?" Tears filled her eyes.

"Oh no! I just forgot to bring it home.
" "Bring it tomorrow, OK?" "Sure thing, don't worry.
" As she hugged my neck with relief, I unfolded the note that had not got into the sack and it read, "I love you daddy.
" "Oh" and also "Uh-oh.

" I looked long at the face of my child.
She was right.
What was in that sack was something else.
Molly had given me her treasures, all that a 7 year old held dear.

'Love in a paper sack' and I had missed it. Not only missed it but I had thrown it into the waste paper basket because there wasn't anything in there that I needed. Dear God! It was the first and the last time that I felt my 'daddy-permit' was about to run out.
It was a long trip back to the office but there was nothing else to be done. So I went, the pilgrimage of a penitent.

Just ahead of the janitor, I picked up the waste basket and poured out the contents on my desk.
After washing the mustard off the dinosaur and spraying the whole thing with dirt freshener to kill the smell of onions, I carefully smoothed out the wadded ball of brown paper into a semi functional bag, put the treasure inside and carried the whole thing home.

The next evening I gave the bag to Molly, no questions asked, no explanations given. The bag didn't look so good but the stuff was all there, and that's what counted. To my surprise, Molly gave the bag to me several days later; same ratty bag, same stuff inside.
I felt forgiven and trusted and loved and a little more comfortable of wearing the title of 'Father'. Over several months the bag went with me from time to time.

It was never clear as to why I did or did not get it on a particular day. I began to think of it as a 'Daddy Prize' and tried to be good the next morning so I could get it." Time went on for this man and Molly turned to other things.
But he never forgot the paper sack that he nearly missed.
As I read that story I thought to myself that there are precious moments like this that we can miss out on; wonderful words spoken by our children, little notes that input into us.
Or words spoken by our spouses, our parents, people that we love, little things that are done for us that in the busyness of our day, we lose.
I tried to put these thoughts together in my mind.

What is it that I am communicating to you? On the one hand is context - not forgetting the big picture because it gives us a reference point to life and how important life is.

On the other hand are some of the smaller things that can add such significance to our lives, like children.
The Bible says in Psalm 127: 3-5, "Don't you see that children are God's best gift; the fruit of the womb his generous legacy.
Like a warrior's fistful of arrows are the children of our vigorous youth.

O how blessed are you parents with your quivers of children.

" How true. Let's not miss out on those beautiful significant moments in our lives, by getting myopic, caught up in the things by forgetting the context. And the context is the quality of life that we must have, that we must give to our spouses, our children, our families and all the rest of the people who love us dearly.

So my friends, just a thought for you to think about.

What's the big picture for you and what are those small details that sometimes we may overlook as we get too busy doing the things that we do from 9 to 5 or 9 to 7 or even 9 to 9.

God Bless You All.