top of page

One Stick at a Time

  • Writer: Harriet Joy
    Harriet Joy
  • May 30
  • 5 min read

Finding God in the Mundane


I was sitting in a room with a student doing their GCSEs recently, and I looked out the window and saw a bird fly past with a stick in its beak. It got me thinking about how boring and repetitive it must be to do the same thing over and over. Like this bird I saw, building a nest. If you’ve ever watched a bird build its nest - It’s repetitive. Slow. The bird doesn’t grab a bunch of stuff and slap it together all at once.


ree

It builds the nest one stick at a time.

Over and over, flying back and forth, placing one little twig, one piece of grass, one leaf at a time. The bird doesn’t rush. It just keeps gathering, placing, adjusting, and repeating. Until finally, it creates something safe, strong, and ready for what’s coming next... new life.


Here’s the point: God often builds our life the same way. One stick at a time.

From a distance, What your doing may not look like much. But that’s how life is, too: the significant things often begin small, even unremarkable. Many of us carry God-given dreams and visions of making an impact, pursuing a calling, building something lasting. And we get excited (as we should). But what we often don’t expect, or we forget sometimes, is the quiet/building part of the journey.


When "Purpose" Feels Like Plain Routine

A while ago, I volunteered in Malawi for four months, where I was working with a charity and going into local schools. Before I left home, I imagined this mission would be filled with unforgettable moments and that it was going to be this big God-adventure (which it was), but not in the way I expected it to be.


The reality? It was slower. Simpler… Even mundane.

Day after day, I visited schools. Taught classes. Helped with small tasks. Talked with students. Some days were wet (really wet!) and quiet. Some days I just sat there and listened to the teacher talking to the students, and did not get a chance to help. More than once, I wondered, “Is this really making a difference?” But it was in that season—far from home, far from anything ‘normal’ to me—that I started to see the value of small, mundane moments.

ree

  • A card game with a group of local children sitting on the ground.

  • Sharing a meal with a local single Mum and her three kids.

  • Seeing the light in a student's eyes when they can complete a question on their own.


It wasn’t flashy. But it was real. And it mattered. God was doing something. Not just around me... but in me. And it was happening one simple, ordinary moment at a time. And it's in these moments that God is doing something we often forget about: building character.


Our character must be strong enough to carry our calling.

The Mundane Builds the Foundation

That’s the thing we so often miss: the mundane isn’t meaningless. It’s foundational.

Just like a bird’s nest, the life we're building—the character, the trust, the resilience, the faith—is formed slowly, patiently, one small decision at a time.


  • Every time you choose integrity when it’s easier not to.

  • Every time you show up when you feel unseen.

  • Every time you say “yes” to God when no one else sees.

  • Every time you pray without immediate answers.


That’s a stick. That’s part of the nest. That’s something that will hold what’s coming.


“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.”  Zechariah 4:10 (NLT)


Even in Malawi I didn’t realise until later that those mundane days, those uneventful hours, were doing something eternal. In the hearts of the students and also in my heart! After being in Malawi for about 6 weeks, the students were writing letters to people that sponsored them from England. I got told that a few of them had written about me in their letters! I didn’t realise that I had impacted them so much in such a short space of time. I didn’t ‘see’ it. But my obedience was making a difference, whether I realised it or not. 


What if your sticks matter more than you think, just like mine?

The Lie of the “Big Moment”

We often think purpose looks like big stages, dramatic breakthroughs, or instant fruit. But that’s not usually how God works. He builds things slowly. We live in a culture that celebrates speed... overnight success, viral growth, instant results etc. But God’s way has always been slower. Stronger. Deeper. Because what God is building in us is meant to last!

ree

Throughout the Bible, we see it again and again:


  • Moses spent 40 years in the wilderness as a shepherd before God called him to lead a nation.

  • David was anointed king, then spent years hiding in caves and running for his life.

  • Joseph had dreams of greatness, but first had to be sold into slavery, falsely accused, and forgotten in prison.

  • Jesus Himself lived 30 years of ordinary life before His public ministry began.


God isn’t only present in the miraculous... He is powerfully present in the mundane. The everyday moments. The faithful steps. The stick-by-stick obedience.




One Stick at a Time

We often equate God’s presence with visible change. We think, “If God is with me, things will feel amazing. Fruit will be obvious.” But sometimes, God’s greatest work is done quietly. In the hidden places. In the internal transformation of a persons heart. In the continued obedience. In other words, our nest is being built even when sometimes we don’t know what it will even hold yet.


God is not slow. He is thorough.

And He is far more interested in what’s being formed in us than in rushing us to a finish line. Whatever season you’re in right now—whether it’s exciting or exhausting, bursting with purpose or mundane with routine, know this: you’re not stuck, and you’re not behind.


You are building something. God is forming something.

Even if it feels small. Even if no one sees it. Even if it looks like nothing is changing. Let's keep getting our sticks. One act of faithfulness, one moment of trust, one simple “yes” at a time... God is in a process. Just like my trip to Malawi, I only saw the beauty of the season after I came home. I realised God didn’t need it to be spectacular. He needed it to be faithful. He needed it to be real. And that’s where transformation happens.


This process of collecting sticks is doing something holy in us.

  • It’s stripping away pride.

  • It’s teaching us trust.

  • It’s anchoring our identity not in results, but in relationship.


And most of all, it’s reminding us that God is not just after what we’re building. He’s after us. Our hearts. Our dependence. Our willingness to walk with Him even when we don’t see where the path leads. Each of these moments is a preparation for what’s ahead. And when we embrace the process, we actually begin to become the kind of person who can carry the vision we’ve been given.


So... Keep Going

ree

Keep showing up. Keep building the nest. Keep trusting that what feels ordinary now will one day hold something extraordinary. When it feels repetitive - when your season looks more like stick-gathering than dream-chasing… don’t quit. You’re not behind. You’re not forgotten. You’re in the middle of building your nest. God is not just watching from a distance. He is right there with you. In the classroom. At the desk. In the conversation. In the prayer. In the waiting. And when it feels small, remember... this is how big things are built. You’re investing in your future, in Gods vision for your life … and ultimately God’s Glory.


And He is saying,

Don’t quit. I’m building something beautiful. One stick at a time.

 
 
 

Comments


About Me

e8fc30a1-5828-45ae-a703-2a9e267b3feb_edited_edited.jpg

I have been a Christian for 10 years now. I endeavour to use all that life throws at me to point people to Jesus and help others, in an effort to walk in more freedom everyday and show that freedom to the world. 

Posts Archive

IMG_3201.JPG
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit - Romans 15:13

© 2023 by Harriet Joy. Powered and secured by Wix

bottom of page