Little bits

 I wrote this for my mom on her birthday, as she was feeling discouraged, and I wanted to cheer her up. I thought I'd share it here.

  Little Bits 

 

 

You may not be able to run a mile. 

But perhaps, you can walk a step. 

A little, bitty step. 

And maybe, then, tomorrow, you can walk two, little bitty bits. 

And maybe not. 

Maybe all you can do is watch other people walk. 

Maybe you are stuck, and can’t even talk. 

And maybe you’ll never walk ten steps, or even a fraction of a mile. 

Maybe you’re wedged, forever, right where at. Unable to move, like a rock, someone stuck in crack. 

But even a rock in its solid state, is perhaps a mountain, or a monument, an altar, pointing to God, something great. 

And if you find yourself feeling quite small, not a mountain, or a monument at all. You can be rock-ing chair. A place for someone to be. A place for someone to sit, and look, and see, and share. 

And if you can only sit. 

And watch. 

The people doing the bitty things you wish you could do, in a big way. 

Like climbing a mountains, or sailing the seas, doing so many things in big ways, with such ease. 

It’s alright. 

Whatever bitty bit that you’re able to do or be. 

Smile, a bit. 

Or cry a bit. 

Or sigh a bit. 

Or look. 

And if your eyes cannot see. 

Look within. 

Where all things be. 

Listen to your beating heart. 

It’s been doing a very big part. 

Giving love, perhaps none see. 

Loving so many unconditionally. 

And no matter if the world is blind to the big and little bits you do, and the invisible things that come, and go in time. 

Know that all things big or great, are just bitty bits, changing states. 

But it’s the bitty things, that make life sweet. 

Bitty bits of sunlight.  

Bitty things for you to eat. 

Bitty hugs, and bitty kisses. 

Bitty loves, butterfly wishes. 

Bitty dandelions blowing in the wind. 

Bitty hands of newborn babes. 

Bitty moments as a star flashes by. 

A bit of bitty laughter, that makes you so happy you cry. 

A bitty breath we all take. 

And a bitty breath as we exhale. 

 A breath is all that stands between life, and death, and things we love so well.  

So if you feel as if you can’t go on. 

Remember, it’s the bitty things that make life run. 

Remember a thank you, a gentle squeeze of the hand, means more than riches or land. 

Remember if ever you’ve felt all alone, those bitty things you did for someone, brought them home. 

Remember that old age is just a bitty thing. 

A rite of passage, for kings and queens. 

A reminder that no matter how much you do, you are still God’s child. 

And he likes bitty things too.