I like to dream big--to think about how little can become much. I especially like to dream big about God's kingdom. If God can give us so much, why can't we do more with it? He gave us his Son, his only Son, and what have we done? Fed the hungry? not really. Sheltered the homeless? not really. Upheld the despairing? not so much. I get frustrated. I write off big ideas and I look around for good small ideas. Small ideas are just so slow and I have no patience.
Then I remember St. Zita, my patron saint, the patron saint of domestic servants. She wasn't a nun. She wasn't particularly clever. She wasn't rich or powerful in any way. She was the maid, then the cook, and after a rocky journey, the housekeeper of a Roman family. The only thing she was was holy. Her holy was enough to feed and clothe the poor. It was enough to transform her employers and everyone who knew her. St. Zita's holiness looked like scrubbing, baking, and cooking. Her holiness was as everyday as you can get, but God in the middle of that everyday changed everything. It's still changing everything, including me.
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