“It is too little…” Is 49:6
A few weeks ago, I came across a meme that stopped me in my tracks. It read: “When God put a calling on your life, He already factored in your stupidity.” I burst out laughing, but then I felt strangely comforted. There was something freeing about the honesty of it. God’s call, apparently, does not depend on my competence, clarity, or flawless judgment.
I realized I’ve also been carrying another phrase with me, one I return to when life feels especially hard: I wish God didn’t have so much confidence in me. I don’t say it out of disbelief or resentment. I say it when things feel heavy, when the effort of simply showing up takes more than I expected.
I’ve learned that humor, especially self-deprecating humor, helps me keep my balance. It doesn’t make light of the call, but it keeps me from being overwhelmed by it. It gives me just enough space to ask a more honest question: Where might God be inviting me to grow, not by doing more, but by seeing differently?
That question brings me to today’s reading from Isaiah, where God says, “It is too little…” Too little to stay within what is familiar or manageable. Too little to measure life only by what we can see or control. God’s vision is wider than that.
I don’t hear this as God demanding more effort or higher achievement. I hear it as God seeing more possibility than we often allow ourselves to see. The invitation is not to strive harder, but to trust that God’s imagination for our lives exceeds our own.
At 64, I can look back and see things I never imagined I would do. Much of what has shaped me unfolded beyond anything I planned. That helps me remember that what lies ahead is still unknown, even when I think I have a plan. And I’ve learned not to assume that the unknown is a problem.
So perhaps the question Isaiah leaves us with this week is not, “Am I doing enough?” but something simpler and more honest: Where might God be inviting me to see my life with God’s eyes, rather than my own measurements?
Reflection:
When have I felt overwhelmed or unprepared, caught between trusting that God knows my limits and feeling that life is asking more than I can give?
Rev. Jim Caime, SJ
My email link is now correct.
I have lived and worked in thirteen states, as well as in Europe, Latin America, and East Asia, traveling around the world for work. I tend to approach life with a global perspective—yet always with a keen awareness of the local and the individual.
One of the most powerful meditations for me in the Spiritual Exercises is the meditation on the Incarnation, where the Trinity looks upon the world and sees the need to “be made flesh” in our lives. This deeply shapes my understanding of faith and presence.
Math, science, and hard data help us understand our lives and circumstances, but without the arts—poetry, music, and beauty—we would lack the language to express the inexpressible. I am drawn to Ignatian spirituality because it affirms that God is present in all things, always seeking to communicate with us, personally and profoundly.
I am a dreamer, deeply desiring to see the world as God does—with all its possibilities—while never turning away from its pain. And, thankfully, I also have a wicked sense of humor, which helps me (and hopefully others) navigate the world’s darkness with a bit more light.
At the same time, I hold close the wisdom of the prayer attributed to St. Oscar Romero, which reminds us that “we are merely laborers and not the Master Builder.” We are never the be-all and end-all—that is God’s place. This truth keeps me both humble and hopeful. Also, I am a sinner, always in need of God’s love, mercy and grace.
It is a privilege to contribute to this ministry. God’s Word is alive and active, and I hope my reflections offer you meaningful thoughts for your own prayer.
