What David Is Teaching Me About The Mundane.

I took Max for a walk today to break up the monotony of writing (or more accurately, binge watching Dawson’s Creek). And as he dragged me five blocks I did some major thinking. Not just regular walk thinking, but the real questioning life stuff.

When I look around me, I don’t necessarily see an obvious purpose for my life. I am a 25 year aspiring writer making a living off of watching other people’s kids. The day to day often feels monotonous and uninspired. And while I love my life in so many ways, I can’t help but feel like I am missing something that everyone else is getting.

And so I look to my good friend David, as I always do when I am drowning in the mundane.

Yes, David the shepherd boy who no one noticed for years and years. The one who spent all of his time with the sheep, walking up and down hills, and playing his harp for an audience that couldn’t applaud. And yes he eventually became a king, a ruler over many, but what Is most interesting to me is how all the mundane stuff shaped his character.

Years and years at the bottom of the rung, spending all his time with animals, looked down upon by even his own family. I’m sure he felt discouraged on many occasions. His life may have even felt purposeless at times.

But if he hadn’t experienced the mundane would he have made a good king? If he had never learned to defend his helpless little lambs, and walk through the mountains would he have made it to the palace in the first place?

This boy spent years alone with God; listening and resting in his presence. Even though his life wasn’t getting anymore exciting there for a while.

And so as I walk the mundane, a time in my life with many directions yet no direction at all, I remember the shepherd boy. A boy whose mundane was actually the important stuff, the stuff shaping him into the man he was meant to be.

So if your walking in the mundane today, unsure of where you’re going or how to get there, take heart in the truth that these moments matter. We grow the most in the little moments, not the big ones.