A Sparrow Falls

A small brown sparrow lay near the edge of the sidewalk, much too still. I thought of how a sparrow cannot fall to the ground apart from God’s will. As my feet continued down the sidewalk, my thoughts took two different paths as the complimentary roles of pragmatist and dreamer played thoughts through my head.

The pragmatist, my practical side, thought of an acquaintance once asking, “If God is so good, and knows about that little sparrow, then why let it die?” Thankfully, God is large enough for all of our questions. The answer is one I have muddled through at times, when confronted with the “whys” in life, especially when taking my own limited viewpoint into consideration. Why God did you let this tragedy occur? God, why didn’t you take care of this need the way I thought it should be taken care of? Why God have you not answered on my timeline? And, while we are on the subject God, why did you answer that other prayer in that manner? Like the curious child, I can catch a case of the incurable whys. My desire is for real answers – not a stuffy, “because I said so,” or interminable silence where my impatience causes me unfruitful exercise in jumping to incorrect conclusions. I want to understand and the question is worth consideration. I think it is in the searching itself that my mind and heart are forced to stretch; as if thought were a stiff muscle yielding to new directions and allowing me to consider my presupposed answers differently.

God allows tragedy and discord on earth, but does so with a complete picture in place, and a purpose that cannot be overridden by our life happenings. It is the sovereignty of God that I must first point to, and my assurance that his plan will not fail. Let me reiterate that as the ultimate authority, God is in complete control, with an understanding and perspective that is complete and whole; very different from my own. My choice in the matter is whether I will trust, if I will rest, in God’s sovereignty. Although I have already made the lifetime decision to trust in God as my Savior, there are many moments when a life turns a path in a direction I have not expected and I renew my decision to trust my Father to guide me along the correct path. It is with this restful trust I can hope, that I can keep faith, trust rooted in the solidity of love. “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulations, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?” This is not a trust made of tissue paper, easily torn and crumpled; but one of strength which breaks down walls, redesigns lives, and builds beautiful new creations. 

 Of course, I must let the dreamer have a voice as well. It is what allows me to see the potentials, the possibilities and beautifully abstract ideas. My thoughts took a completely different path along this route, thinking of the sparrow as a metaphor. A little bird, small and in the amazing world of feathered creatures, rather unremarkably colored. They eat seeds and insects, living amongst flocks of like creatures and chattering away in cloud of song. How many little sparrows are in my world that can rise or fall on a given day? Little things make up much larger parts of my life, like bricks paving a walk. Remove a brick and the absence is noticed briefly; remove many and the absence is felt. Knowing God is aware of the feathered flying sparrows in life reminds me that he is also aware of my own sparrows. It is not a far away and distant stranger to whom I pray, but a friend who walks along with me.

Little sparrows in my life are often the things I find myself wanting to hang my mood on. If I feel I have been productive, receive an unexpected compliment or criticism, watch my plans go slightly awry or be improved; these are just a few of my sparrows. It’s when the car won’t start, windows need to be washed, too many good things force prioritizing of time, and a stranger brightens my day; those are all little sparrows. I remind myself that the car repair is cheaper than the car payment, I’m grateful to have windows and ways to clean them, what a blessing it is to have so many good things that prioritizing is necessary, and try to pass along that stranger’s brightness to someone else. These are all sparrows for me. Small happenings, but regardless are known by my Father. Just as nothing is too large to be taken to God, nothing is too small as well.

“Whatever I tell you in the dark, speak in the light; and what you hear in the ear, preach on the housetops. And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. But rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.

Matthew 10:27-31

Sky High Love

Taking the dogs out once more before going to bed, my eyes turned to the sky and I felt my feet come to a standstill on the driveway. Over and around me, the sky stretched out; immense and painted with color, patterns and textures that more than rivaled the master painters. Because I have the habit to sing, well – anywhere; a song came out, "His Eye is on the Sparrow.” All I could do was stand, stare and sing; and of course keep an eye on the dogs who might go wandering.   

“For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him” Psalm 103:11

 

Just thinking of the space between where my toes met the ground below and the reach of the heavens above, the immensity of the love described was breathtaking. I stretched out my arms, filled up my lungs with air, and took up only a tiny fraction of that space. 

Such love can feel too large and powerful for me to comprehend; beautifully overwhelming to the touch and sight. I think this is why the thought of the sparrow is the one that first came to me.

“And not one of them is forgotten before God. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”  Luke 12:6b-7

The tiny bird that many would deem to be insignificant is not forgotten by the Creator. The knower of the large and small, is in the magnificence of the heavens and in the infinite subtlety of a tiny creature of flight. As I continue to view the sky, my heart was full to overflowing. 

Placing Hope

When I was a little girl, there was a place at the park where a shelter had been built to overlook a forested valley. If I stood very quietly with bird seed on my hands, chickadees and sparrows would use my palms as their dinner spot. Tiny birds with bright eyes and bold looks would gobble down the seeds and trust me to serve them properly without jumping up and down in delight. In return, their presence thrilled me as I could feel them walking about, tickling my palms and giving me the opportunity to see the details that are a mere blur in flight.

Hope seems to me to be something like those birds. Deceptively fragile, incredibly detailed and something precious to be entrusted with; I try to form it as an image in my mind. But, it is not enough to hope for anything, or it will turn to something small and broken before my eyes. I hope for health, a car that runs, to do my job well, to have happiness and many other things. But, these are small and easily overturned hopes.  Health fades, cars break down, there are good days and bad days in anyone’s job, happiness is not guaranteed. If I hope in these things, I am left hopeless.

A friend wrote about the bravery of choosing to hope in the Creator of hope recently. It seems that in a way, hopelessness may be the easier out because it hedges our bets. Her words encouraged me to continue to bravely continue to seek for the hope that comes with Christ. Hope that is not based on circumstances or culture, media or other people. It is hope that stems from what is true and good and right; from Jesus – the creator of hope.  

“For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38-39

My hope is in Jesus. I don’t think it could be better placed. 

Worship Comes in Many Sizes, Colors, and Sounds

I’m a musical person, singing for just about any reason and at any time.  This includes grocery stores, gas stations, home, work, or just walking down the sidewalk.  As much as I love music and to worship my God through music, I love how there are beautiful elements of worship all around us.  Like a banner spread across the sky, the scarlet, crimson, blue, and tangerine oranges coloring a sunset paint an extravagant and elegant view of praise.  The way the feathers on an eagle wing bends as it cuts through the air, showing worship in the subtleties of creation, serves as an illustration.  It is the sparrows in the bush outside the kitchen, singing their songs that speak to my heart, I praise with them in their songs.  It is the cardinal in the snow bush, puffing up to hold in warmth and creating such a striking view in the snow.  It is the first greening of the spring moss as the snow crystals start melting.  It is the coo of a dove and the laugh of a baby.  It is the first daffodil of spring, one of a host to bloom.  It is the sound of a family laughing, of work being accomplished, of efforts being made, and hurts being healed.  Worship is all of this and so much more.

These words are written out on a post-it at my desk; not on a fancy plaque or special piece of art, just a little yellow post-it.  “And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”  These words in Colossians 3 are my reminder of how worship is not a one size, sound, color sort of act.  It is so much bigger!  These are just a few of things that remind m-e of and help me celebrate Jesus.

Shadows and Freedom

Have you ever noticed how two thoughts which seem unrelated can wind themselves together, twining this way and that to form a vine? I had two thoughts and over the last few days, they have sort of twined together.

I live in a small town; it’s a nice little town on the river and home to several large companies. It’s a typical small town with typical small town structures. There are restaurants and a fire department, homes and schools. I enjoy during the school year watching children walk to the elementary school as I drive to work. In the summer, it is replaced with afternoon skateboard and bicycles. An ice cream truck can be heard often during this hot time. I know my neighbors names and they are lovely neighbors. It’s not a perfect town; there are problems inherent in every area. There is crime and poverty which I wish wasn’t there. It is the longest I have ever lived anywhere, over 12 years! It is the longest by far (by over 8 years). So, I have lived here long enough to know that if I go straight at that one road and turn at another, that I will pass a patch of beautiful black-eyed-susans. And, it is an odd reassurance to know that my pharmacist, who knows my name, can also quote Shakespeare. I know that there are many who feel stifled here, they look around and see the limits. One such asked me not to long ago why I didn’t just take off and declare “freedom”. But, I’m not sure that that is what freedom looks like to me.
The other was just a moment, just a few seconds. On my way home from work, I needed to stop and run an errand. I drove up the street and the city jail was directly in front of me. I saw a shadow of a large bird move across the small high panes of glass in the jail. I wondered in that ephemeral moment if that was a sad reminder to the men and women in the jail. If that shadow passed through the window, the shadow of a bird epitomizing freedom, passed through the window, would it be something that rips their heart a bit?
The freedom of a bird, the freedom of choices, freedom to be and do and live and love – what is freedom? Is freedom the bird that flies from spot to spot? The sparrow which alights outside my window and splashes in the water with great abandon has a type of freedom. When my dog gets up she has a day full of naps and playtime and running, a different kind of freedom. I do have freedom. I have freedom to make a go of my job or not, to make a friend or not, to be pleasant or have an attitude, to work hard or hardly work. I also have a freedom to be what I was meant to be. Not the meant to be of romantic Victorian novels and the fates. But, meant to be as in the gifts and tasks and plans God has for me that are just for me, and those for you that are just for you. When I spurn those gifts, I feel more like the prisoner watching the bird out the window. Instead, I want to be more like the sparrow, splashing about with joy and abandon in the water. Thus, the two thoughts twine together and form something a bit more coherent, a bit stronger, as I define freedom for me.