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About reveds

Occupation: Pastor, Ebenezer Presbyterian Church, Lennox, SD Education: BS - Christian Education, Sterling College; MDiv. - Princeton Theological Seminary Family: Married, with Four children. Hobbies: Running (will someday run a marathon), Sci-Fi (especially Doctor Who and Sherlock), Theater, and anything else my kids will let me do.

The Spiritual Power of Small Things

“For whoever has despised the day of small things shall rejoice…”
Zechariah 4:10

Sometimes, I wonder if our goals aren’t just too big.

Not in the sense that they’re too hard for God—He’s never once been overwhelmed by our ambitions. But too big in the sense that they’re aimed in the wrong direction. We crave big churches, big ministries, big platforms, big influence. We dream of doing something great for God, but often we’re really trying to do something impressive for ourselves—with just enough God in it to keep us respectable.

It’s nothing new. The builders at Babel had a vision. They wanted to make a name for themselves, to reach the heavens, to establish a monument of permanence. But God wasn’t impressed. Their tower crumbled before it ever touched the sky—not because their engineering failed, but because their ambition was self-centered. It was a great goal with a crooked aim.

The story of Scripture tells a different kind of building project.

In Zechariah’s day, the exiles had returned from Babylon and were tasked with rebuilding the temple. The work was slow, unimpressive, and frankly disappointing. Compared to the glory of Solomon’s temple, this one looked like a sad shadow of former glory. People were weeping at the foundation (Ezra 3:12). Hope was hard to come by.

But the Lord said: “Do not despise the day of small things.” Why? Because the work wasn’t about size or spectacle—it was about faithfulness. It was never about the greatness of what they built, but about the greatness of the One they were building for.

The same Spirit who promised that rebuilding would succeed (Zech. 4:6) is still at work in us today. But He often moves through the quiet, the hidden, the uncelebrated.

Jesus seemed to delight in small things:
– a mustard seed
– a hidden treasure
– a single lost sheep
– a widow’s coin

He even said the whole kingdom of God is like yeast worked invisibly into dough.
It’s not that Jesus didn’t think big—He just knew the Father builds big things slowly and often invisibly.

Most days, Christian faithfulness doesn’t look like a tower reaching to the heavens. It looks like praying when no one sees. Forgiving when no one thanks you. Reading Scripture in the early morning stillness, even when your heart feels dull. Serving in the background. Holding your tongue. Loving the difficult.

These aren’t Instagram-worthy moments. But they’re mustard seeds—and Christ said that’s where the kingdom begins.

Small isn’t insignificant. It’s the ordinary soil where God grows extraordinary fruit.
So don’t measure your life by the size of your accomplishments—measure it by your faithfulness to the One who called you.

Maybe your day today feels unimpressive. Maybe your efforts feel small.
Good. You’re in the right place.

Because God isn’t building towers to our greatness.
He’s building a kingdom for His glory.
And it all starts with small things.

SDG

Outnumbered, Outgunned… but Not Outdone

“One man of you puts to flight a thousand, since it is the Lord your God who fights for you, just as he promised you.” (Joshua 23:10)


There’s a strange kind of math in the kingdom of God. One man puts a thousand to flight? I’ve seen some men run a thousand yards after finding a wasp in their car, but I’ve yet to witness a solo warrior send an entire enemy brigade packing. And yet here it is in Joshua 23:10—a promise, not a proverb. A God-given reality, not just a motivational poster for the local men’s ministry.

But the point isn’t that one believer is just that impressive. The point is: the Lord is.

Joshua is giving his farewell address here. He’s no longer the sword-swinging, river-parting, Jericho-flattening commander of old. He’s gray, probably tired, and speaking like a man who knows the hourglass is nearly empty. He reminds the people of what they’ve seen: impossible victories, unlikely conquests, the sheer absurdity of walking around a city seven times and watching the walls do a spontaneous trust fall.

Why did these things happen? “Because the Lord your God fought for you.” That’s the math. That’s the power. That’s the only way one faithful follower sends a thousand foes packing.

But the verse doesn’t stand alone in a vacuum of divine comfort. It comes wrapped in covenantal cloth. In verse 6, Joshua says, “Be very strong to keep and to do all that is written in the Book of the Law of Moses.” In other words: God will fight for you—so obey Him.

Here’s the mystery and majesty of life in Christ: we are called to act with strength and courage, to “act like men” as Paul says in 1 Corinthians 16:13—not because we are the source of strength, but because we know the One who is. It’s not a call to swagger. It’s a call to stand.

We stand because He stands with us.

We act boldly, not because we have it all together (spoiler: we don’t), but because God has bound Himself to us by promise. The same God who told Joshua, “I will never leave you nor forsake you,” is the One who tells us, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Yes, weakness. That’s not exactly what you put on the résumé under “Core Strengths.” But in God’s kingdom, weakness is the invitation for divine strength to show up and flex.

So what does this mean for us?

It means when you’re outnumbered—when the odds are bad, the culture is loud, and you feel like the only one still standing for truth—don’t panic. One plus God is still a majority.

It means when obedience feels costly, when faithfulness looks like foolishness to the world, when you’re asked to do hard things (say no to sin, love your enemies, forgive the unforgivable), don’t flinch. God doesn’t command without also equipping.

And it means that though the battle is the Lord’s, He’s still called you to the field. Not the couch. Not the bunker. The field.

The promise is clear: “The Lord your God fights for you.” The duty is just as clear: “Be very careful… to love the Lord your God” (v. 11). That’s covenantal logic—grace fuels gratitude, and gratitude expresses itself in obedience.

It’s not that you fight so that God will love you. It’s that God fights because He loves you—and your response is to love Him back with your life, your loyalty, and yes, your strength.

So act like men. Stand strong. Obey with courage. But do so with a joyful dependence on the One who puts the thousand to flight.

And maybe keep your car windows closed when driving past a wasp nest—just to be safe.

SDG