Lessons From Little Things

This morning I found myself sitting in Proverbs 30:24-28, a passage that talks about four small creatures. Ants. Rock badgers. Locusts. Lizards.

At first glance, it almost feels out of place.

You read through Scripture expecting grand miracles, kings, prophets, battles, and life changing revelations. Instead, Solomon points us toward tiny creatures most people would walk past without noticing.

And yet, tucked inside those few verses is some of the most practical wisdom I’ve read in a long time.

Maybe that’s because God can use anything to teach us something.

Maybe that’s because wisdom is less about information and more about learning to see what God has already placed in front of us.

Proverbs says these creatures are small, but exceedingly wise. That stood out to me because our culture is obsessed with bigger. Bigger platforms. Bigger opportunities. Bigger influence. Bigger paychecks.

But God often teaches through the small things.

The truth is, it is not the quantity of time we are given. It is the quality of what we do with it.

God has never given me anything He intended for me to waste.

Not my victories.

Not my failures.

Not my seasons of abundance.

Not my seasons of grief.

Not even the years I spent trying to untangle the effects of losing my mother, navigating foster care, wrestling with anger, healing from abuse, and learning who God really was beneath all the pain I carried.

Nothing was wasted.

The Creator always knows how to get the best out of what He creates.

The first lesson comes from the ants.

Proverbs 30:25 says:

“Ants are creatures of little strength, yet they store up their food in the summer.”

Ants understand seasons.

They know when it’s time to gather and when it’s time to live off what they’ve gathered.

What strikes me is that they don’t complain about what they don’t have.

They leverage what they do have.

I think many of us spend so much time focusing on what is missing that we never maximize what is present.

We tell ourselves we’d be faithful if we had more money.

We’d serve if we had more time.

We’d write if we had more confidence.

We’d heal if we had better circumstances.

Meanwhile, God is asking us to steward today’s provision.

The ants teach us that wisdom isn’t waiting for more.

Wisdom is using what you’ve already been given.

They also teach us to recognize seasons. When we understand the season we’re in, we’re less likely to waste it.

Some seasons are for planting.

Some are for healing.

Some are for building.

Some are for resting.

Every season has a purpose.

The second lesson comes from the rock badger.

Proverbs 30:26 says:

“Rock badgers are creatures of little power, yet they make their home in the crags.”

Rock badgers are not intimidating creatures. They aren’t strong. They aren’t fast. They aren’t impressive by worldly standards.

Their wisdom comes from where they place themselves.

They live among the rocks.

They know their safety isn’t found in their own strength.

It’s found in their refuge.

That one hit me hard.

There have been seasons where I thought resilience meant becoming stronger.

God was teaching me something different.

Resilience isn’t found in becoming stronger than everything around you.

It’s found in staying close to the Rock.

When my mother died, when life felt unfair, when relationships disappointed me, when health challenges appeared after I thought I had finally turned a corner, God’s invitation was never “be stronger.”

It was “stay closer.”

The rock badger survives because it knows where to run.

So should we.

The third lesson comes from the locust.

Proverbs 30:27 says:

“Locusts have no king, yet they advance together in ranks.”

They have no visible leader.

Yet somehow they move together with purpose.

They know their lane.

They know their role.

They know where they belong.

I think there is incredible wisdom in that.

Many of us spend our lives trying to be everyone else.

Trying to carry assignments that don’t belong to us.

Trying to fix people God never asked us to fix.

I used to think I was Olivia Pope. If there was a problem, I wanted to solve it. If someone was hurting, I wanted to carry it. If something was broken, I wanted to repair it.

What I’ve learned is that wisdom isn’t doing everything.

Wisdom is knowing what belongs to you.

The locust teaches us that there is power in collective purpose.

When you are clear about what God has called you to do, you become equally clear about what He has not called you to do.

There is freedom in that.

The final lesson comes from the lizard.

Proverbs 30:28 says:

“A lizard can be caught with the hand, yet it is found in kings’ palaces.”

Of all four creatures, this one may be my favorite.

The lizard isn’t powerful.

It isn’t feared.

It isn’t celebrated.

Yet somehow it ends up in places you’d never expect.

Kings’ palaces.

The lesson is simple.

Stay.

Keep showing up.

Keep moving.

Keep trusting.

The lizard teaches the art of sticking around.

And honestly, some victories don’t come because we’re the smartest person in the room.

Some victories come because we outlasted what was trying to stop us.

I’ve learned this through healing.

I’ve learned this through grief.

I’ve learned this through seasons where exhaustion felt louder than hope.

Sometimes winning looked less like conquering and more like simply refusing to quit.

One more prayer.

One more day.

One more act of obedience.

One more step forward.

The lizard reminds us that persistence often opens doors talent never could.

When I finished studying these verses, one thought stayed with me.

The investment determines the advancement.

Ants invest in preparation.

Rock badgers invest in refuge.

Locusts invest in unity.

Lizards invest in persistence.

And every one of them ends up exactly where they need to be.

Maybe wisdom isn’t as complicated as we make it.

Maybe wisdom is learning to steward what we have, run to the right refuge, stay in our lane, and keep showing up.

Maybe the abundant life Jesus talked about in John 10:10 isn’t built through giant leaps.

Maybe it’s built through thousands of small, faithful decisions that seem insignificant until one day we realize God was using every single one of them.

Nothing wasted.

Not one season.

Not one tear.

Not one lesson.

Not one small step of obedience.