Well, I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probably die in a small town
Oh, those small communities

So John Cougar Mellencamp sings in his (forgotten?) 80s hit about growing up and loving a small town – Seymour, IN. Middle America. The world is ran by big cities not small towns. Chicagoans often make fun of small towns for their lack of fine dining, backward style, and parochial culture. 

Throughout the Scriptures we witness God employing small towns, small things, small people, to do great things. He consistently chooses barren old women, widows, ordinary folk, babies, a couple loaves of bread, or small towns like Bethlehem or Nazareth. Even when He made the universe, He made it from nothing. It doesn’t matter to God. In fact, by doing great things with nothing or little He demonstrates that He demonstrates that it is all His doing.

So He choose the youngest child of Jesse, David, in the small town of Bethlehem to be King of Israel. A thousand years later it was in that same small town, that God became the smallest, a baby, born to a young virgin from an insignificant family. Our savior hung out with small people, chose them to be his disciples, forgave their sins, fed them, healed them, served them.

So if you are from a small town, or you feel like a small, weak, and insignificant person, you are God’s specialty. Of course we all are that really, no matter where we live or how strong we think we are. We are small. We are weak. We are dying. We are sinners. That’s ok to admit. For to you a child is born, Jesus. As Micah says, “He will be your peace. He will gather you home.” He died for you and rose for you.

We often like to talk about how we are supposed to be growing in Christ. Yet how strange it is, that the more we grow, the smaller we get, and the bigger God gets.