He is just one of my many grandchildren.
I hope he has a wonderful day.
I hope he feels the great love so many have for him.
I am fascinated by sparrows.
They are small, nondescript birds.
This unbelievably massive flock completely covered my front lawn but flew each time I opened the door - I resorted to shooting through the blinds. |
Passersby were of interest but since 'town' was tiny often the only moving, living things to watch were just a stray dog or cat and the sparrows. There were always lots of sparrows.
Sparrows are usually in flocks.
It is rare to see just one.
Sparrows make me giggle.
They remind me of groups of kids or people.
There are all kinds. There are many colors and markings. There are bullies and beggars, some are greedy and many are quarrelsome. One day, as we watched some sparrows fighting over pieces of popcorn dropped along the sidewalk outside a convenience store, my parent pointed out the comparison that some people are a lot like sparrows. They are always trying to get what others have, wanting what they don't have themselves and trying to take it from someone that does.
Sparrows, although almost ubiquitous, are not a popular bird. They receive little respect.
Scriptures reference more than 20 different types of birds, mostly in the context of the Jewish sacrificial and dietary laws, but sparrows are described in a unique context.
Matthew 10:29 records, "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing?" while Luke 12:6 records that 5 could be purchased for 2 farthings - is that the sale price?
Although they seem of little monetary value and may flutter in flocks too great to count Luke specifies that not one is forgotten before God.
Mathew 10:31 and Luke 12:7 instruct that we should "fear not" because even the hairs on our head are known and we "are of more value than many sparrows."
Although they seem of little monetary value and may flutter in flocks too great to count Luke specifies that not one is forgotten before God.
Mathew 10:31 and Luke 12:7 instruct that we should "fear not" because even the hairs on our head are known and we "are of more value than many sparrows."
Have you ever watched sparrows?
I have marveled at this small creature’s unwitting closeness as I sit enclosed, peering through the windows in my cage of car or house. I would not harm one but I too can be unwitting.
I often watch these cheerful bits of unforgotten masterpiece, hated of men, in their plain but beautiful blends of subtle brown and grey coloring and pattern markings with small touches of black or white that show male and female. They hop, hop, hop along just through the glass or along a curb or fence - near but apparently oblivious to me.
I can be alone or with others but as I watch them I find I can not feel common or hated. I change. Their cheery pep transfuses me. God says not ONE of them is forgotten.
One I cannot tell as they flutter in flocks: one who was beleaguered in the suddenness of a spring snow; one lost in the bitterest chill of winter; one with an injured foot; or one quarreling over popcorn curls by the theatre; or one, unknowingly risking to come near enough to peck at a gnat on a glass patio door ... I am hidden by it's lace curtains (its risk is only that my movement may bring the unexpected startle of seeing).
I once asked a son
“Do you think Heavenly Father could be close like this to us?”
He cocked his head, thinking.
I often watch these cheerful bits of unforgotten masterpiece, hated of men, in their plain but beautiful blends of subtle brown and grey coloring and pattern markings with small touches of black or white that show male and female. They hop, hop, hop along just through the glass or along a curb or fence - near but apparently oblivious to me.
I can be alone or with others but as I watch them I find I can not feel common or hated. I change. Their cheery pep transfuses me. God says not ONE of them is forgotten.
One I cannot tell as they flutter in flocks: one who was beleaguered in the suddenness of a spring snow; one lost in the bitterest chill of winter; one with an injured foot; or one quarreling over popcorn curls by the theatre; or one, unknowingly risking to come near enough to peck at a gnat on a glass patio door ... I am hidden by it's lace curtains (its risk is only that my movement may bring the unexpected startle of seeing).
I once asked a son
“Do you think Heavenly Father could be close like this to us?”
He cocked his head, thinking.
The sparrow too paused, cocking his head, noting the suggestion of movement mostly hidden by light diffused back from the lace veiled glass. Then both continued their morning business of breakfasting.
I have never forgotten that moment.
Perhaps God is just through a veil.
Perhaps He waits to see if I will look.
I believe He watches ... and waits for us ...
I have never forgotten that moment.
Perhaps God is just through a veil.
Perhaps He waits to see if I will look.
I believe He watches ... and waits for us ...
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