There is no greater statement of love than…bacon. I don’t know if bacon is your thing, but at our house, we consume quite a lot of bacon; it is after all one of the favorite foods even on the restrictive diet menu here. For as long as I can recall, that menu has included homemade waffles drizzled with melted dark chocolate and bacon cooked to just-right crunchiness. At times pancakes make a showing, and we recently added back in some hashbrowns for the younger teen and sausage for the older teen. But always on the menu has been waffles and just-right bacon.
Pulling off just-right bacon is not done quickly. It is, in fact, an investment of at least 30 minutes, sometimes more because just-right bacon is cooked on a low heat and flipped often. Often it is the first menu item started and almost always the last menu item served; it simply takes that much time. And we’re okay with that. It is, after all, a good source of protein and this particular protein is more readily consumed when it is thin and crispy and not thick and chewy. For too long, the title of the best just-right bacon maker was my husband’s. However, I can say with some confidence I am not able to give him a run for his money for that coveted title.
How do we judge this title? When the bacon hits the table and our teenagers make their selections, any bacon left behind on our oldest teen’s bacon plate likely means the bacon was not quite “there.” It was a good effort, but not just right. But when the bacon is quickly consumed and the crunching can be heard from the dining room table into the kitchen (not a long distance, but not the same room, so…), we know it’s a job well done.
So, when my oldest approaches me with her small blue bacon plate and offers me her final piece of just-right bacon, this is no small gesture. This is an act of love, an act of wanting to provide something for me. And I am here for it. Not the bacon, though it usually is delicious, but for the gesture.
I think we can forget how important small acts of kindness or sacrifice can be. Too often, I think we overlook the small actions we can take that truly can make a difference. You are probably familiar with The Star Thrower story from Loren Eiseley, in which an older man observes someone on a beach littered with starfish upon the shore after an overnight storm. The person the older man sees appears at first to be dancing, but the older man realizes as he draws closer to the other person, a young man, that the younger man is leaning over, scooping up one starfish, and tossing it back into the ocean. The older man is incredulous and asks the many why he is doing this thing.
The younger man explains if he doesn’t throw them back into the sea the starfish will die from the heat of the sun on the sand. The older man is even more incredulous because clearly there is no way the younger man will be able to save all the starfish. Patiently, the older man tells the younger man there are too many to save and he will never make a difference. In response, the younger man leans down, picks up a starfish and tosses it into the waves and replies, It made a difference to that one.
When one of my girls makes what seems like a small gesture to me in the form of a piece of bacon I know she’d more than likely eat, or, in the case of my youngest handing dollar bills to a homeless person on the street, I don’t see a small gesture. I see them making a difference. I see them caring about someone other than themselves. I see them embodying the ideas of Jesus, who taught His followers the importance of providing even a cup of cold water to someone who needs it.
In other words, grand gestures are wonderful. But the small ones? The seemingly insignificant actions, those are the ones Jesus seemed to draw attention to with His words. And as one who has been on the receiving end of a small but also sacrificial gesture from one of my teenagers, those are the moments that stick with me. Those are the things that stir my heart and help root life’s joy ever deeper into my soul. And as I watch the ways these two beautiful young women navigate and interact with the world, I love how I am provided the opportunity to see how they plant seeds of joy in their wake. And, I am absolutely here for it.