God Uses the Small Stuff
Ministry Moments That Seem Minor
Key Verse:
““Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much.” — Luke 16:10 (NIV)
Pastors tend to notice the big things
We remember the Sunday when the sanctuary was full, the baptism that brought the congregation to its feet, the sermon that seemed unusually powerful, or the ministry initiative that exceeded every expectation. Those are wonderful moments, and we should thank God for them.
But after years in ministry, you begin to discover something else: some of the most significant things God does happen in moments that barely register when they occur.
A five-minute conversation after church. A handwritten note. A prayer beside a hospital bed. A phone call you almost didn’t make. A sentence buried halfway through a sermon that you don’t even remember saying.
We call them small things.
God sometimes calls them seeds.
We Usually Don’t Know What Matters Most
One of the humbling realities of ministry is that pastors are poor judges of their own most effective moments.
You may spend fifteen hours preparing a sermon and assume the congregation will remember your carefully crafted third point. Instead, six months later someone tells you that one sentence you almost removed from the manuscript changed the way they viewed their marriage.
You may organize a major outreach event and see little visible response, then discover that a two-minute conversation in the parking lot opened the door for someone to return to church after twenty years.
That’s ministry.
We plant seeds without knowing which ones will grow.
Paul described ministry this way: “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow.” — 1 Corinthians 3:6 (NIV)
Notice the division of responsibility. Paul planted. Apollos watered. God gave the growth.
That takes some pressure off, doesn’t it?
The Conversation at the Door
It’s Sunday morning. The service is over, and you’re standing at the door shaking hands. You’re already thinking about lunch, the afternoon meeting, and whether anyone noticed that you completely skipped one paragraph of your sermon.
A teenager who rarely says much approaches.
“Good sermon, Pastor.”
“Thanks. How are you doing?”
There’s a pause.
“Okay.”
Something tells you not to accept the answer.
So instead of moving immediately to the next person, you ask, “Really?”
That one word changes the conversation.
Ten minutes later, you’re sitting in the sanctuary listening as that teenager describes a struggle nobody in the church knew about.
What did you do?
Nothing spectacular.
You asked one more question.
But sometimes one more question is ministry.
Jesus Noticed Individuals
When we read the Gospels, we naturally notice the miracles that affected crowds. Jesus fed thousands. He preached to multitudes. Entire villages came to see Him.
Yet some of the most memorable encounters in the Gospels happened one person at a time.
Jesus noticed Zacchaeus in a tree.
He stopped for Bartimaeus beside the road.
He spoke with a Samaritan woman at a well.
He welcomed children when the disciples considered them an interruption.
Again and again, Jesus demonstrated that kingdom significance isn’t measured by crowd size.
Sometimes the ministry opportunity standing in front of you is the ministry.
The Note That Stayed in a Bible
A pastor learns that a longtime church member is going through a difficult season. He writes a short note:
“I prayed for you this morning. Don’t forget that the Lord sees you, loves you, and hasn’t abandoned you.”
It takes perhaps three minutes.
The pastor forgets about it.
Years later, after that church member dies, the family is sorting through personal belongings. They open an old Bible and find the note tucked between the pages.
It had been there for years.
What took the pastor three minutes to write had encouraged someone for a decade.
That’s the strange economy of the kingdom of God.
Things that seem small when we give them can become enormous in someone else’s life.
Don’t Despise the Ordinary
Zechariah asked an important question during the rebuilding of the temple:
“Who dares despise the day of small things?” — Zechariah 4:10 (NIV)
We are naturally attracted to impressive things. Attendance figures get attention. Large ministries get invitations. Dramatic testimonies get shared.
But much of pastoral ministry is stubbornly ordinary.
You prepare another sermon.
You visit another hospital room.
You counsel another struggling couple.
You pray with another grieving family.
You teach another Bible study.
You encourage another volunteer.
You show up again next Sunday.
None of it seems particularly dramatic.
But faithfulness rarely feels dramatic while you’re doing it.
The Sermon Nobody Seemed to Hear
A pastor preaches what he considers a mediocre sermon. The introduction didn’t connect the way he hoped. He stumbled over a sentence. The congregation seemed unusually quiet. Driving home, he mentally rewrites half the message and wonders whether anyone was listening.
Tuesday morning, an email arrives.
A woman explains that she had been struggling with a decision for weeks. One passage the pastor explained Sunday gave her exactly the biblical clarity she needed.
The pastor barely remembers that portion of the sermon.
She may remember it for the rest of her life.
That’s why we have to be careful about evaluating ministry too quickly. God can use what we consider our weakest sermon. He can use an awkward conversation. He can use an ordinary Sunday. He can use a prayer that felt inadequate. He can use a kindness nobody else noticed.
God has never required spectacular circumstances to accomplish eternal purposes.
Small Things Accumulate
There is another reason the small things matter: they accumulate.
One encouraging conversation may not transform a church culture. Hundreds of them might.
One carefully prepared sermon may not produce obvious change. Years of faithful biblical preaching can shape an entire congregation.
One hospital visit may seem routine. But when people know their pastor has consistently shown up during the worst moments of their lives, something profound develops: trust.
This is why longevity in ministry matters.
Faithfulness compounds.
Week after week. Sermon after sermon. Visit after visit. Prayer after prayer.
Eventually you look back and realize that a ministry was built largely out of things that didn’t seem important enough to remember when you were doing them.
You May Never Know
Perhaps the hardest part is that we may never discover how God used much of what we did.
Some seeds grow where the planter never sees the harvest.
A child from your church may remember something you taught twenty-five years later.
Someone may keep a sermon outline long after you’ve forgotten preaching it.
A family may remember that you showed up at the hospital at midnight.
A struggling pastor may continue in ministry because you called him at precisely the right moment.
You may never know.
That’s okay.
The goal was never for us to see everything God accomplished through our ministry. The goal was to be faithful with the opportunities He placed before us.
A Final Word
Pastor, don’t underestimate the small stuff.
Make the phone call.
Write the note.
Ask the second question.
Pray with the person standing in the hallway.
Prepare the Wednesday night lesson even when only twelve people attend.
Preach Sunday’s sermon as though someone’s life depends on hearing God’s Word—because you don’t know what God may do with it.
Somewhere along the way, ministry culture taught us to measure significance by size. Jesus never did.
In the kingdom of God, a mustard seed can become a tree. A few loaves and fish can feed a multitude. A cup of cold water can matter eternally.
So don’t spend your ministry waiting for the big moment.
You may already be standing in it.
You just don’t recognize it yet.
Resource of the Week
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