So I watch the show American Pickers. I had no idea what a picker was the first time I watched it, and I still view most episodes with my mouth agape at the junk people accumulate (read: hoard) that is of value to others. Truly, the show epitomizes the idea that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.
The show’s premise is pretty simple. Two guys drive around until they find people with barns, shacks, houses, garages, sheds and the like filled with junk (oops, I mean collectibles). The guys ask if they can look at their stuff, offer prices to purchase if they find what they want, agree on a price, load the newly purchased old wares into a van, and drive off to find another “collector.” While very seldom shown on the show, the van ultimately drops off the purchased items at stores they own in either Iowa or Nashville to sell to another picker/collector/my wife. How do you like it so far?
This show intrigues me on a number of different levels — I’m not sure why. However, I have come to realize that Mike and Frank’s “picking” regularly confirms for me one of life’s most valuable takeaways: It’s not always the big things that matter, it’s an accumulation of the “smalls.” When there’s not the “big pick,” the guys fill in with the “smalls.” That’s life, isn’t it?
The good Lord spared me just three years ago to continue doing His good work here on earth. As you might imagine, I have pondered the “why me” a thousand times. Why was I spared? What “big thing” am I to do? Where is that time and place that is big enough that I say, “Well, Lord, this is why I’m still here.” Just now I’m coming to the realization that it’s probably the “smalls” that are making the difference in this world — not the “big pick,”
Jack is as big as his home state of Texas. I don’t see him often, but I enjoy seeing him when I do. I don’t know a lot about him personally, just his working world. I like him, though. You can tell he has a heart for service and a strong work ethic. I like that.
I thought the conversation had ended, but Jack had one more thing to tell me. His eyes filled with tears and his lip trembled as he awkwardly lingered before he spoke. His 51-year-old daughter had ocular cancer that had metastasized to her liver. She was in treatments.
I didn’t really know why he told me until I answered: “My wife and I will pray for her.” I asked what her name was and wrote it down. We prayed later for Jack and his daughter, as I promised we would. I’ve prayed since as well.
See, it’s about the “smalls.” That’s why I’m here. That’s why you’re here. The “smalls” matter in making the world a better place. Do something small today and every day.