All day, I was feeling insignificant. I love my children, and truly enjoyed teaching them as usual. But somehow, my perspective was different.

Usually I view my occupation as an important mission. Perhaps because the newness has faded, possibly because I was having a tired Monday after a busy weekend… whatever the reason, today I wrestled with doubt whether my daily grind is really accomplishing anything of great value.

As my red pen danced over thirteen pages of spelling, and my mind automatically totaled deductions and calculated grades, I was struck by the fact that I have these pairs memorized. For example, 6 incorrect words × 4 points each = 24 points deducted. 24 points off & 76% are partners. This is my fourth year of marking spelling, and I no longer need to subtract in my head… I have the number pairs memorized, because I have repeated this task so often.

In truth, I actually enjoy checking. But today, I was struck by the seeming futility of it. The repetition. And suddenly, my thoughts became a swirling mess of,

“How much red ink have I used over the years? How many more hundreds of spelling words will I mark in my lifetime? And what is my purpose in doing this?”

The thought of spelling books piled up on my desk every Monday for years to come is a little depressing.

As I said, I enjoyed my day. I just felt rather insignificant.

And somehow, I couldn’t find the inspiration to check the language books, so I decided to leave them for tomorrow.

As I locked my classroom and headed out the door I exhaled. “Another day in. Impacting children. But unnoticed.”

I realized then that my perspective needed a shift. Jesus asks us to serve Him faithfully in the little things, and for His glory alone. I am simply His servant, and I don’t deserve to be lauded for anything I do. But that stubborn human nature of mine quietly whispered a longing… for just a hint of recognition.

I determined to rise above this silly notion and regain a positive mindset before I got home. And on that drive, God opened my eyes to see His goodness again.

Golden hour sunlight streamed across the landscape, bathing the crimson forests in a breathtaking splendor.

A flock of seagulls swirled overhead, silhouetted against the sky. Since I wasn’t trying to enjoy a picnic in solitude on the beach, I realized with surprise that they really are uniquely beautiful birds.

Just like that, my perspective shifted. It seemed as though God had sent that entire flock – there were literally hundreds – of seagulls, to teach me a lesson. I saw these birds which I’ve long been prejudiced against in the sunset’s light… and they became beautiful.

And my heart was lifted as I sensed the Spirit breathing His recognition of my day over me. God sees the little tasks I do. The things that seem so insignificant, so futile? God sees me do every one of those things.

If God sees them, they aren’t insignificant – not at all! They are part of the work He has called me to in His kingdom. Not every moment of teaching is a rewarding, fulfilling, heart warming experience. I need to labour in the little things, even though I live for the big moments of success.

Maybe the unnoticed, never ending cycle of checking books is like those pesky seagulls. Illuminated by the Sonlight, they’ll become beautiful.

All I need to do to see that is work for God’s favour alone. He Who called me to the task recognizes the little things I do, and rewards me with His smile of approval in every sunset.

Am I unworthy of recognition? Yes.

But is my work unnoticed? No. Not at all.

In God’s sight, every aspect of my work is significant enough to be worthy of His notice. And so, I will put my heart into each task I’m required to do tomorrow with new purpose, doing it “as unto the Lord.”