My Friday was a rager, y'all.

I spent most of my work time battling with WordPress settings for a Catholic school website I'm building.

I know, try to hold back your jealousy.

It was one of those, I'm doing the right things, this should be working, WHY IS THIS NOT SHOWING UP LIVE?! kind of things.

(Turns out, there was a setting hidden in the column level that was overriding my changes at the universal level because...why?! The world may never know.)

And as I sat there getting more and more frustrated, I had a Holy Spirit thought:

This matters.

Getting this right matters.

Now at surface level, it looked like a complete waste of time.

Fighting with tech to make sure the link color is correct on a random web page is not going to fix all of the issues in the world right now.

But it still mattered because it's what God called me to do when I accepted this project.

Because if I didn't get the font color to change for links, it would mean people couldn't see the links.

And if they couldn't see the links, they wouldn't know where to click to apply.

And if they couldn't apply, maybe they'd go to another school.

And maybe this school was where they needed to be because that is where they will discover Jesus and fall in love with Him, and their life will never be the same.

And so if all I'm doing this for is for one person who will fall deeper in love with Christ, then I will fight WordPress code until I am victorious.

And it's worth it. And it matters. The hidden, mundane, frustrating work of ministry matters.

In Fr. Mike Schmitz's homily from yesterday, he talked about a story he'd heard of a student who was asking Fr. Boniface Hicks why Jesus was crucified when He was.

And the student proffered, "I think maybe it was to save the Good Thief. Maybe it was just to save that one guy."

Can you imagine?

That the timing of the salvation of the world might have been timed specifically to reach that one soul.

There are other theological reasons for why Jesus likely died when and how He did, so it probably wasn't "just" that.

But I think the possibility of that singularity just underscores the importance of every single thing we do.

That email you're about to hit send on after typing it out quickly with one hand while distracted?

It matters, because it's going to a beloved child of God.

That Instagram story you wonder if it's even worth posting because it will only be seen by 14 people so why bother?

It matters, because God loves those 14 people.

That page on your website you're updating even though you're certain no one will ever see it?

It matters, because maybe someone WILL see it, and that specific message you wrote from the heart impacted theirs, and now they reach out to you, and because of that, they turn their lives around and draw closer to God, and THEY have impact on a bunch of people who now give their lives to Christ...and so on.

So the most important thing, the thing that matters most in marketing?

Doing whatever task the Lord has in front of you as though it is the most earth-shattering, change-making task ever.

Even if it's mundane and you're sure no one will ever see it or recognize it.

Our world is broken. The violence and hate are overwhelming. And we might be tempted right now to think that the little things we're doing don't matter.

But they do.

Prayer matters.

That small hidden task the Lord has asked you to do matters.

Doing that hidden task to the best of our ability, as though it will be world-changing, matters.

Because He has the big picture, and He doesn't ask for our big results — He asks for our faithfulness.

Especially now.

So this week, I want to challenge you to approach each marketing task with the same importance you would preparing a speech for thousands of people.

Pray. Give it your best. Ask the Lord to meet you there and work it all for His glory.

And then even the smallest of things we do in marketing will matter most and have Holy Spirit impacts.

Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us.

For His greater glory,

Emily

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