His Eye Is On The Sparrow…And On Me
My sweet 93-year old mom and I swam in our backyard pool late one afternoon as we watched 2 little sparrows fly back and forth over our heads for perhaps 30 minutes non-stop. On our patio, there’s a small metal stand next to the house which is a catch-all for sunscreen, towels, and pool toys. Wedged between a toy helicopter and a bag of charcoal sits a little red bucket.
Every few minutes the birds would disappear into the bucket with their coveted pieces of straw or tiny twigs. We deduced the obvious: they were making a nest. The impressive part was their tenacity and perseverance flight after flight from the bucket to the nearby trees with but a small twig in their beaks. While we enjoyed our swim, the birds were on a mission and nothing would deter them.
After our swim, I cautiously checked the inside of the bucket to marvel at the perfectly coned out nest which awaited pending company. The next day I wasn’t surprised to see one tiny egg deposited in the cozy little nest. But the birds were nowhere to be found. I feared a failed mission.
The next day my inspection of the nest found 2 eggs. And then the next day, 3. And then finally 4 tiny sparrow eggs! I had no idea that birds laid their eggs days apart. Nor did I realize that both parents participated in the nest building. Finally, last night I checked the nest again and found the mother deep inside undeterred by my snoopy peek into her home. I quickly pulled away to hopefully prevent startling her and possibly risk having her abandon her eggs.
I know all of this sounds boring. It’s nature. It’s the way things go. Everyone sees birds make nests, lay eggs, and hatch chicks. But this was different. It wasn’t happening high up in a random tree. This was my turf. The nest was in a bucket on my patio. I felt some kind of weird kinship to the future hatchlings. And I felt super protective. There would be no disturbances from grandchildren. No loud noises. No unnecessary visits to the nest. My maternal instincts kicked in with a fury. And I don’t even really like birds that much.
So what was the spiritual lesson for me to learn? What does the Bible teach? Well, for one thing, God cares for the sparrow. Even so, He lets the sparrow make its nest in a low-lying, possibly dangerous place. And though God loves me more than the sparrow, He allows me to make mistakes, too. He allows me to make my own way in life, all the while watching over me and somehow protecting me. His eye is on the sparrow…and on me. And you. That’s reason to rejoice! Oh, and yes, I’ll send out an announcement when “my babies” come.