The Power of Micro-Decisions

How the smallest choices shape the direction of our hearts

Yesterday I had a moment.
And it made me think about our micro-decisions.

Those little choices we make that don’t seem to amount to much. The ones we hardly think about. They’re small, forgettable, and often gone from our minds within minutes.

But sometimes those tiny moments reveal something deeper.

Just an FYI — this is one of those posts that jumps from one story to another story and then ties everything together at the end.

Stick with me. I promise it will make sense.

The door I didn't lock

After a long day at work — stress, chaos, the usual whirlwind — I was staring at the clock on my screen and feeling that quiet joy that comes when it finally hits check-out time.

I packed my bag, grabbed my phone, keys, drink bottle — everything — threw my massive “kitchen sink” bag over my shoulder, yelled out “See ya!” to the colleagues, and headed out.

As I got downstairs a thought popped into my head:

I should probably lock the doors so someone else doesn’t have to.

So I locked the two downstairs doors. Those ones are easy — just press a button.

Then I looked at the far back door.

And I thought…

Umm… they can do that one.

See, to get to that door I had to walk back, dig through my massive bag, find the keys, and lock it manually.

It was inconvenient.

So I yelled out to a colleague that I hadn’t locked that door and asked if they could do it.

And as I walked away…

I felt that little pinch from the Holy Spirit.

You know the one.

I sat in my car watching my colleague go and do the one thing I didn’t want to do.

And immediately three things hit me.

1. This was not my proudest moment. I definitely wasn’t being Christ-like.

2. It may seem like a tiny thing, but it’s the combination of these micro-decisions that shape who we become.

3. If we can’t love each other in the small things, how do we expect to love each other in the big things?

So I sat there and prayed.

Repented.

And then a thought dropped into my mind that honestly made me pause.

So… the dog is more important than my children?

Which probably needs a little explaining.

The Dog Story

About five months ago our dog Lola passed away.

She was 15 and a half years old. A beautiful husky, and honestly a huge part of our family.

Since she passed away, our other dog Frodo has been… well… depressed.

He spent over ten years of his life with her.

So last week I thought maybe it was time to get him a companion.

Now, Lola and Frodo are huskies, and I had decided the next dog I got would be a poodle cross. I can handle grooming. What I can’t handle is fur decorating absolutely everything I own — the house, the car, my clothes, my hair, somehow even my underwear.

So I started searching for a young pup.

Every site I visited, though, I kept bumping into the same dog.

A 10-year-old Spoodle (Cockapoo).

He was everywhere — Facebook, Gumtree, Trading Post.

But because he wasn’t what I wanted, I kept scrolling.

Eventually I noticed something interesting.

He looked sad, he also happened to be in the same town I work in. So I call them, to find out they are even on the same street I work in,

So on the weekend I took Frodo to meet him.

His name was Toby.

And he was such a sweetheart.

But Frodo clearly thought otherwise. We knew it wouldn't work with him sadly.

Still, my heart broke for him.

He hadn’t been walked, played with, or groomed in over a year. He lived on a concrete patio, ignored and alone and honestly just needed some love and care.

So I told the owner:

“I used to work in rescue and with lot's of dog people. He’s not the right fit for us, but if you like I can pick him up after church tomorrow, groom him, take some photos and help find him a home.”

They agreed.

So after church the next day I went to pick him up.

And the owners did something I was not prepared for.

“Don’t bring him back.”  they had all his things packed like a spontaneous exodus.

Shock.

Horror.

And my immediate after thoughts of:

How do I explain this to my husband?

So I took Toby home, groomed him, and spent the afternoon calling rescues and contacts, taking photos, sharing him with everyone I knew and praying a whole lot.

Within six hours, through a series of connections and honestly what felt like God placing the right people in the right place, Toby had been placed with a rescue and an amazing foster carer.

He now has new furry friends and is doing wonderfully.

It was one of those moments where you think,

Wow, God let us be part of something good today. And the best part, Frodo is really happyh

The Conviction