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Posts Tagged ‘his eye is on the sparrow’

No, I am not pregnant! But someone is expecting!

Recently, as a gas fitter was replacing a part on our pool furnace, he discovered a nest of tiny little eggs in the bushes behind the pool shed.

Way down into the bushes, into the dried grass and weeds a momma bird had hollowed out a place where she could see the sun, and anything else that might peer into her nest, but deep enough that it would be out of the line of sight of any going by.

The gas fitter discovered it because th

 

ere was this tiny, very verbal, bird that kept yapping, flitting back and forth. He had the presence of mind to realize that the behaviors exhibited by this bird were protective, and that there might be a nest somewhere, so he started to look around, and eventually discovered what this mamma was protecting.

Into that hollowed out nest were five of the tiniest eggs possible.

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And now we wait …

Mamma bird is starting to get accustomed to my intrusions … although I am not getting accustomed to her greeting. About every second day I crawl up onto the upper part of our back yard, perched precariously on my knees, then try to spy the spot where the nest is located. Each time I ‘get’ to experience deeper understanding of the element of surprise, when mamma bird comes flying out at my face, squawking to scare me away from the family she is protecting.

 

I have tried to assure her that her family is safe in my eyes, and that my hands will never touch her precious treasures, but I do not seem to be as good at communicating my intentions as she is at communicating hers.

As a mom, I have to say that swallow or sparrow mamma really could have chosen a better, more safe place to lay her eggs. If my beast was ever off leash, she could get her nose into that nest in no time, as could any other four-legged creature … and there are many of the feline variety who walk through our garden. There is so much possibility of harm that could come to she and her babes.

As there is to each of us.

We often live a little on the edge, with potential dangers all around.

But we have One who loves and protects us, because He made us. He formed the birds of the air, and cares for them … He formed man and woman, and He cares for us too.

We are His, and He sees we humans as his ‘pièce de résistance’. He gives us the promise that He will never leave us (Hebrews 13:5), that He cares for us (1 Peter 5:7), that He has loved us with an everlasting love (Jeremiah 31:3), and that we are more valuable than many … sparrows.

the value He places on us is

“So do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows.”
Matthew 10:31

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I’ve got Karen Carpenter singing in my head, as I sit at a coffee shop, watching the rain fall, and looking at the depressing forecast for the week to come.

It is now mid-June and the monsoons continue, with little relief (aka. sunshine) in sight … literally.

I have yet to swim in our pool, get a suntan, or have the sun hide my darker (or lighter, as the case may be) roots. I have yet to wear shorts, a tank top or sunglasses. I wear only hoods, slickers and galoshes. And I am considering that Prozac might just be a big part of my near future.

Despite how it sounds (and looks) the weather is not all doom and gloom. This west coast winter weather in springtime does make it easier to keep the grass green and the plants watered. It makes the final days of working in a school, before summer break, far more bearable. It makes barbecuing less appealing, and using the slow cooker more appealing.

All that said, the first day of summer is this very week. The countdown is not down to days, but hours, and the calendar may just turn without any other outward signs of this seasonal change. Today, that reality is really getting me down.

Just a week ago the office administrator at our church had put the following on our church sign:

“Whoever it is that is still praying for rain,
STOP!”

I have to say, it was my favorite message board saying ever!

As I sit, enjoying my warm drink (a London Fog … could I choose a more appropriate cool and wet weather drink?), I noticed a small, sparrow-like, bird looking for edible treasures outside the window. For this small creature, the rain does not seem to hinder it’s daily routine. As a matter of fact, it is probably benefiting from the wet soil that draws the worms out of the ground, making it’s take-out meals more like delivery.

Out of nowhere an old, old (like over a hundred year old) song starts playing on the record player of my mind:

“Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,
When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,
I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.”

The words make me wonder, is this less appealing weather worthy of complaint? Why am I allowing something that is so out of my control, to control how I look at this day? Even when my complaint is of greater value than the reports of a meteorologist, there is always something to be thankful for, because there is always one who watches over, cares for and loves me.

“Funny, but it seems I always wind up here with you
Nice to know somebody loves me
Funny, but it seems that it’s the only thing to do
Run and find the one who loves me”

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