Most who call themselves Christians are drawn to the spectacular. We chase the next big thing—emotion-filled moments, powerful personalities, and public platforms. We look for experiences that dazzle rather than stand in awe of what God has already graciously given us in the gospel.
But God, in His steadfast love, has spoken to us not through hype or headlines, but through His eternal Word. The God who created galaxies has condescended to speak to us in human language—words written down, preserved, and powerful enough to pierce hearts and transform lives. And yet, in a world captivated by celebrity and noise, we’ve grown forgetful. We follow the loudest voices, gravitate toward the biggest names, and credit the wrong people with kingdom influence—those who impress us, but may not necessarily reflect Christ.
Meanwhile, we overlook where God often does His deepest work: in the quiet, ordinary places. In the homes, classrooms, hospital rooms, nursery chairs, and grocery store aisles. We forget that God delights to work in the mundane, and that the Christian life—at its most faithful—is unspectacular to the world’s eyes.
The early church knew something of this.
In Acts 8, persecution scattered believers from Jerusalem. But here’s the extraordinary thing: those scattered weren’t apostles or professional ministers. They were everyday Christians—mothers, merchants, widows, and daughters. And yet, “those who had been scattered preached the word wherever they went” (Acts 8:4).
They didn’t wait for titles. They didn’t need microphones or stages. As they relocated into new towns and unfamiliar regions, they carried the gospel with them—woven into conversations, hospitality, and daily life. And when Paul arrived in some of those places later, he found thriving communities of faith—planted by faithful hands whose names we may never know this side of heaven.
Now think about the women who shaped your faith.
Maybe it was a grandmother who prayed over you before you ever took your first breath. A Sunday school teacher who knelt beside you with an open Bible and patient love. A woman in your church who brought meals, shared tears, and quietly modeled a life devoted to Christ.
These women may not trend online or be quoted from pulpits. But make no mistake: they are heroes of the faith.
And sister, so are you.
You may never write a bestselling devotional or speak at a women’s conference. But when you fold laundry while praying for your children…
When you teach little ones the name of Jesus…
When you deliver a meal to someone in crisis, hold a grieving friend’s hand, or send an encouraging message after Sunday service…
You are doing eternal work.
You are planting gospel seeds. You are watering weary hearts. You are advancing the kingdom—one quiet, faithful act at a time.
The Apostle Paul doesn’t say to build others up once you’ve become well-known. He simply says, “Encourage one another and build each other up” (1 Thessalonians 5:11). That’s a command for everyday believers, in everyday life.
So whether you’re changing diapers or caring for aging parents, mentoring a teen or simply showing up week after week to teach a Bible class or sit beside someone in worship—know this:
You are part of something eternal.
Your name may never be in bold print.
But it is written on the hearts you love.
It is written in the Lamb’s Book of Life.
And it is honored by the God who sees in secret.
You are in the same lineage of faith as Ruth, Hannah, Hagar, Mary, Lydia, Priscilla, and the multitudes of unnamed women whose obedience moved mountains—one mustard seed at a time.
So if you ever wonder if your life matters…
If your quiet faithfulness is enough…
Let this truth anchor your heart:
The world may not notice.
But heaven does.
God sees you. God hears you. God knows your name.
And your legacy will outlast time.
Debbie Swindell 