Enjoy the Little Things

Because sometimes they get lost in the big things

A while back, I had a really good taco.

Not just a “that was tasty” kind of taco—but the kind you remember. The kind that sneaks back into your thoughts days, weeks, even months later. To say I dream about that taco isn’t too far from the truth.

It wasn’t life-changing, but it made a moment in my life better.

And today, of all days—Cinco de Mayo landing right on Taco Tuesday—it came back to mind. Not just the taco itself, but what it represents.

Earlier today, I saw a simple post that stopped me in my tracks:
“Enjoy the little things, because sometimes they get lost in the big things.”

I’ve talked a lot about enjoying the little things. It’s almost become a familiar phrase—something we nod along to and agree with. But the way this was worded felt different.

Because it’s not just that little things matter.
It’s that they get lost.

And if we’re honest, we know exactly how that happens.

The big things in life have a way of demanding our attention—things like the economy, gas prices, health concerns, relationship struggles, and the uncertainty of what’s coming next. These aren’t small things, and they’re not things we can just ignore. They’re real, and they carry weight.

But they also have a way of taking up all the space.

Before we know it, our thoughts are crowded. Our shoulders are tight. Our days feel heavy. And somewhere along the way, the small, good things—the things that quietly bring us a moment of peace or joy—slip out of view.

Not because they disappeared, but because they were overshadowed.

That’s the part that sticks with me today.

It’s not that life stops offering those little moments. It’s that the bigger things can drown them out if we’re not careful.

A really good taco.
A great cup of coffee.
A bird you’ve never seen before at the feeder.
A flower pushing its way into bloom after a long winter.

These things don’t compete for attention. They don’t shout. They don’t demand anything from us. They just show up—quietly, gently, faithfully.

And they still matter. Maybe more than we give them credit for.

Because while they may not solve the big things, they soften them. They remind us that not everything is heavy, not everything is hard—that even in the middle of stress and uncertainty, there are still moments of goodness woven into the day.

Moments that make the day feel a little more manageable. A little more human. A little more hopeful.

So maybe today isn’t about learning how to notice the little things. Maybe you already know how to do that.

Maybe today is just about not letting them get lost.

Not letting the noise of the big things completely drown out the quiet goodness that’s still there.

Because sometimes, the difference between a hard day and a meaningful one isn’t something big or dramatic.

Sometimes… it’s just a really good taco.