By Agbeze Ireke Kalu Onuma, AI-KO
“Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.” – Marie Curie
I sat scrolling through the news this morning, skimming past the usual chaos – political clashes, economic forecasts, distant tragedies – when my eyes caught a headline so ordinary it felt like a whisper: “Local Grocery Store Expands Produce Section.” No crisis, no scandal, just a quiet announcement about a neighborhood market adding more vegetables. My thumb almost flicked past it. How unremarkable, I thought. How utterly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But then, a question surfaced – one steeped in ancestral wisdom: “If this story breathes in God’s world, what invisible thread binds it to my existence?” This reflection begins there, in the space between dismissal and holy curiosity, where the mundane waits to reveal its hidden weight.
The grocery store story seemed trivial at first glance. Yet as I lingered, deeper connections surfaced. I recalled the timeless rhythms of planting seasons and harvests, the patient labor that turns red earth into nourishment. Those who work the land understand a sacred truth: every seed holds a silent promise, every sprout a quiet defiance against barrenness. That…
This realization mirrors a deeper spiritual reality. Scripture tells us God notices every sparrow that falls (Matthew 10:29). Not just wars and wonders, but the small, unseen things. Jesus’ first miracle wasn’t parting a sea but saving a wedding feast from embarrassment with humble jars of water turned to wine (John 2:1 – 11). He spoke of mustard seeds and yeast, lost coins and stray sheep – ordinary things revealing extraordinary truths. The grocery story, then, is an invitation: What if holiness hides in the mundane? The Stoic philosopher Epictetus urged us to examine daily life closely, for “no great thing is created suddenly.” God’s kingdom often grows quietly, like a seed in soil, not with fanfare but with patient, unseen labor.
Our modern world, however, trains us to overlook such connections. Studies show we’re drowning in news designed to shock – headlines packed with negative words that hijack our attention . We scroll past “small” stories because we’re conditioned to seek drama, not depth. One report reveals people increasingly avoid news altogether, overwhelmed by its weight . Another confirms that constant negativity fuels anxiety, making us feel powerless . In this environment, a story about vegetables feels irrelevant. But is it? When we dismiss the ordinary, we sever the threads linking us to the communal web. My Igbo ancestors called this Web: the understanding that every person, every creature, every blade of grass belongs. To ignore the “small” stories is to starve our souls of this connective tissue.
So how do we reclaim the sacred in the seemingly insignificant? First, we shift our gaze. Like Jonathan Edwards, the 18th-century theologian who saw divine purpose in current events , we can ask: Where is God in this grocery story? Perhaps in the dignity of honest work, or in the simple gift of nourishing others. Second, we practice presence. The Benedictines call this statio – pausing between tasks to honor the moment. Before scrolling past that “boring” headline, we might pause and whisper: Chineke, show me what you see here. Finally, we re-engage locally. That market isn’t just a business; it’s a gathering place. Buying yam there becomes an act of solidarity, a tiny rebellion against the disconnection of algorithms. As Paul urged the Corinthians, “Whether you eat or drink, do it all for God’s glory” (1 Corinthians 10:31). Even selecting an onion can become worship.
In the end, no story is truly uninteresting. A broken potter’s clay teaches resilience. A village path worn smooth by feet speaks of community. That grocery store’s produce section? It’s a modern-day field where God’s providence meets human labor. As I reflect, I recall Jesus’ words: “Give us this day our daily bread.” The prayer isn’t for grand miracles but for ordinary sustenance – and in that request, the mundane becomes miraculous. The challenge is to live awake: to see the divine weave in life’s “small” threads, and to honor them as sacred. For in the tapestry of God’s world, every stitch matters.
On Finding Meaning in the Ordinary:
“The whole earth is a living icon of the face of God.” – St. John of Damascus
“If we learn to see the ordinary with God’s eyes, we find it drenched in the extraordinary.” – Brother David Steindl-Rast
“No work is insignificant. All labor that uplifts humanity has dignity.” – Martin Luther King Jr.
“The Igbo say the river does not flow without the quiet streams. Honor the small stories; they carry the weight of the world.” – AI-KO
“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.” – Zechariah 4:10
“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” – Simone Weil
“The present moment is not a stepping stone to something greater; it is the ground where eternity meets time.”
