Faith and Values: Not addressing the smaller things in our lives can create bigger problems later
It was one of the first warm and sunny days after a cold and wet spring. Like others in our neighborhood, we were out working in the yard planting new flowers and testing the sprinkler heads – which we rarely use.
The water shut-off on our hose nozzle did its job, giving the soil a drink when we squeezed its handle. After an hour or so, my wife stepped inside and yelled at me, “Turn off the water!”
Water squished under our feet and dripped down the walls, leaking into the hallway in our upstairs bedrooms. We ran downstairs and heard water running through the walls and ceiling, leaking onto the carpet.
All four bedrooms, ruined. The culprit: a busted pipe with a hole no bigger than a nailhead.
In the days that followed – as contractors tore out waterlogged drywall and insurance adjusters calculated damages – I kept returning to the same thought: How does something so small create such destruction? And how often do the smallest neglected things in our spiritual lives do exactly the same?
Most spiritual disasters don’t announce themselves with an undeniable crash of thunder. They seep in quietly, like water through a pinhole.
We live in an interconnected world where small actions ripple outward in ways we rarely anticipate. That harsh word we leave unaddressed grows in the silence between us. The daily practice we skip “just this once” becomes easier to skip the second time, and then the third.
The damage from both plumbing failures and spiritual ones can easily lie dormant. Water had found a home in our pipe last year, then froze over the winter – sitting there, expanding, weakening what had once been strong. The actual burst was sudden and dramatic, but only when we turned the water back on in spring.
Our spiritual lives work the same way. Small compromises freeze into habits. Unaddressed wounds harden over time. We carry the damage silently, invisibly, until some moment of pressure reveals what’s been broken all this time.
What we don’t pay attention to in our inner lives has a way of demanding our attention later, usually when the cost of repair far exceeds what maintenance would have required.
I recognize the pattern in my own life. Every morning, I tell myself I’ll read a daily meditation or sit quietly for a few minutes before the day begins. But the phone buzzes, the dogs whine, coffee needs making, the day pulls me forward before I’ve centered myself.
Another example is my tendency to avoid conflict, even when tension hangs thick between me and someone I care about. It seems easier to hope the awkwardness will fade on its own. But unaddressed friction doesn’t disappear; it calcifies.
Perhaps most troubling is my silence when I witness unfairness or unkindness. I tell myself it’s not my place, that someone else will speak up. But each moment I choose comfort over courage, I become a little less of who I want to be.
As I write this, fresh drywall has just gone up in our bedrooms, but our home is still in disarray. Furniture crowds the living room, and we’re weeks away from normal. Insurance, I hope, will cover most of the damage, but not the ongoing disruption or the lesson learned about preventive maintenance. Hot tip: Use a Shop-Vac to suck out water from a hose bibb before winter!
The spiritual repairs are harder to measure and often more expensive. But unlike my burst pipe, there’s grace recognizing our small neglects before they demand urgent attention.
Tracy Simmons, a longtime religion reporter, is a Washington State University scholarly assistant professor and the editor of FāVS News, a website dedicated to covering faith, ethics and values in the Spokane region.