Small Yet Powerful

I'll never forget one Friday in my high school physics class.  Mr. Barbara showed us a video that began with an aerial shot over an American city.  It then zoomed out to show how small the city was compared to the country, and zoomed out more to show how small the country was compared to the Earth.  As the view continued to widen, the planet on which we live receded to a pale, blue dot, which then disappeared as the solar system became a tiny speck on the edge of the Milky Way.  The video ended as even our galaxy disappeared into the immensity of the universe.  The bell rang, and Mr. Barbara wished us a nice weekend.  

I think the purpose was to bring arrogant high school students a little perspective on how small we were.  Most of use went home thinking, "Wow!  I am a mote of dust on a speck of sand in the middle of a desert."  If I had not been well versed in Scripture, that might have gone very badly.  Instead, I spent the weekend understanding that, while I am minuscule compared to the rest of the Lord's creation, I have a relationship with the One who created it.

This week, because of particularly intense magnetic storms on the sun, we have been witness to auroras farther south than we usually would.  While it was too cloudy for me to see them at my home, my Twitter feed has been filled with photographs taken by people with their phones that capture beauty that would be hard to call anything but glorious.  The photo here was taken by one of my Twitter friends in Georgia.  Georgia!  That's really far south to be seeing these phenomena that are usually witnessed only above the Arctic Circle.  As a science teacher, I am struck as much by its beauty as anyone, but I also have the ability to be awed by its cause.  The Earth's magnetic field, caused by the spinning, molten iron outer core deflects 99% of the charged particles we call solar winds.  If it did not, there would be no life on this planet as the high-velocity charged particle would interfere with DNA formation.  These lights are caused by the effects of the 1% that gets through at the magnetic north and south poles.  These particles are minuscule, but their effect is powerful (and beautiful).

I've taught basic chemistry to 8th graders for 25 years, and I have always been captivated by the idea that the electron, which is the smallest subatomic particle, so small we don't even count its mass, is responsible for all chemical reactions.  Electrons run the modern world, yet when they were discovered, nobody cared (well, not nobody - scientists cared a lot - but the average member of the public thought it was unnecessary spending that could have been used for other things).  They didn't understand that something so small could, in fact, be so valuable.

I don't really know where I am going with this, but the auroras this week have me thinking a lot about how much small things matter.  I received a note recently in which a friend said that it was a conversation with me that led her to the job she now has.  For me, this conversation was small - I don't remember having it.  But it had a big impact for her.  I've had similar revelations from alumni over the years, about advice I gave them while sitting on the floor in the hallway, just having a chat.  My pastor likely does not know that the eye contact he gives members who come forward for communion may be the only eye contact someone gets that week.  He doesn't see how excited small children are after he gives them a high five, but I see them turn around grinning because he made them feel like the most important kid in the world.

We know from chaos theory that small things matter in complex systems.  Teachers, we don't know what impact might be had from our kind words, helpful actions, loving notes, or smile on a day someone needs it.  We also don't know what impact might be had from our unkind words, honking horn, or impatient tone.  There is grace for our most human moments, but we must be careful because the smallest things matter.  As Todd Whitaker says, "The best thing about being a teacher is that it matters.  The hardest thing about being a teacher is that it matters every day."  Go out this week and do small things, knowing they are powerful and important.