The Letters at the Bottom of the Page

Johann Sebastian Bach composed over a thousand works in his lifetime — soaring cantatas, intricate fugues, delicate chamber pieces. Some were performed for royalty. Others were simple exercises written to teach his students basic keyboard technique. Yet whether the piece was a masterwork destined for cathedral halls or a modest study that would never leave his studio, Bach did the same thing every time. At the bottom of the manuscript, he wrote three letters: S.D.G. — Soli Deo Gloria. To God alone be the glory.

Bach made no distinction between his grand compositions and his small ones. He didn't reserve his best effort for the audiences that mattered most. Every note was written for the same audience of One. The teaching exercise carried the same inscription as the Mass in B Minor because both flowed from the same purpose.

We spend so much energy trying to figure out our purpose that we often miss what Bach understood instinctively. Purpose isn't found in the size of the stage. It's found in knowing who you're playing for. The Almighty doesn't measure our days by how many people noticed what we did. He looks for the S.D.G. at the bottom — the quiet, steady offering of ordinary work done with eternal intention.

Whether you're leading a meeting or folding laundry, teaching a class or washing dishes, the question isn't whether the task is worthy of you. The question is whether you're doing it for Him.