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“The eyes of the Lord are on the sparrows, and I know that he watches over me.”
A bird feeder hangs from a hook on the eaves of a shed six inches from my desk window, allowing me to watch the birds up close, and a few steps away is a very old red barn feeder, stocked full of sunflower and safflower seeds and attracting blue jays, black-capped chickadees and nuthatches, but mostly a plethora of lowly sparrows.
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The goldfinches of summer are gone, just as our snowbird neighbors and friends have departed for the Gulf Coast and the desert, leaving the cabin country and traffic of the North relatively quiet for winter. This is not Shakespeare’s “Winter of Discontent” as described by Richard III. Rather, it is a quiet time to soak in solitude and reflect on Who is watching over us, compassionately attending to our every need with infinite, eternal love.
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The theme of anxiety is addressed midway through the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 6:26), and then it is briefly addressed by leading us to a windowsill to watch the birds of the air, who do not sow, store or accumulate, and yet are fed and nourished by our heavenly Father: Fortunately, I find even more satisfaction in simply watching the birds from my windowsill.
The Bible features many birds, such as the eagle, whose strength and power is great, the dove, whose holiness is great, and the sparrow, whose value is great. Yet God watches over it as if it were precious. In both the Old and New Testaments, verses in the Bible speak of discouragement and hope.
“I can’t sleep and I feel like a lonely sparrow on the roof.” (Psalm 102:7)
“Are not two sparrows sold for a cent? yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your heavenly Father. Even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Therefore have no fear; you are worth more than many sparrows” (Matthew 10:29-31).
Growing up in a small country church, I sang many tenor solos, including this one, but I also remember watching Billy Graham crusades with my grandparents in front of a small black-and-white TV and hearing Cliff Burrows and George Beverly See, both of whom had wonderful baritones and resonant voices that sang the verse:
“Why should I be dejected… why should my heart be sad? The eyes of the Lord are on the sparrows, and I know that the Lord is watching over me!”
So I try to think about why the following poem caught my eye on the same day that I was enjoying the sparrows, sitting at my window thinking about the birds of the sky and the same God who watches over me and them.
'Hope' is the thing with feathers By Emily Dickinson “Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.
Editor’s note: Eden Prairie Local News (EPLN) contributor Rev. Rod Anderson also serves on the EPLN Board of Directors. He was the senior pastor of St. Andrew Lutheran Church in Eden Prairie.
Are you interested in contributing a faith-based column to EPLN? Email editor@eplocalnews.org .
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