Sparrows

The January morning started out cold and drizzly and bleak. But to me, it was a beautiful day. It was just days before my birthday, a time which brings up all sorts of wonderful memories—many of which occurred on similarly bleak winter days. On this particular frigid Monday, I was in the middle of praying when God prompted me to look out the window at a cluster of leafless trees, diamond-like raindrops clinging to their spikey gray branches. A sudden quick movement among the bare limbs caught my eye, and I realized there was a tiny gray and brown bird flitting around in the treetop. I don’t really know what species the bird belonged to, but I imagined it was a sparrow. And I was filled with peace as I watched it dart from one branch to another, scrounging for food. The bird was simply being a bird, oblivious to the cold and rain and the pandemic that has bound us all in fear for nearly a year.

I smiled, thinking of the Bible verses about sparrows. Matthew 10: 29-31 says: “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” The moment was a culmination of weeks of God bringing to mind sparrows. A friend had sent me a link to a video of Audrey Assad’s song “Sparrows” which is based on the classic gospel hymn “His Eye is on the Sparrow.” Cory Asbury’s “Sparrows” was another song God had been using to direct my focus to the deep love and concern expressed in the verses in Matthew. The chorus of his song says:

“You take good care of me.

You know what I need before I even ask a thing.

You hold me in Your hands with a kindness that never ends.

I’m carried in Your love no matter what the future brings.”

I’m grateful not only for these songs which have encouraged me, but especially for the little bird God sent as a tangible reminder of His presence and His provision. I will never cease to be amazed at a love the depths of which I will never truly comprehend.

All Is Calm, All Is Bright

For so many people, 2020 has been a bleak year filled with fear and despair. Life was also bleak for many who lived in Judea 2000 years ago. The humble carpenter Joseph faced the difficult decision of whether to marry his betrothed or expose her pregnancy with a child he did not father, and risk his community stoning her. Mary faced the overwhelming choice of whether to submit to God’s will and become the mother of His Son. Even once they chose to obey God, life and Rome handed them another challenge when Caesar called for everyone to return to their hometowns for a census.

For a poor couple in a desert land long before cars were invented, this was an arduous trip, made even more difficult by the fact that it was just about time for Mary to give birth. Once they arrived in Bethlehem, they found there was “no room in the inn.” So, they spent the night in a stable, (which scholars say was most likely a cave), filled with animals. For Mary and Joseph, the night was probably filled with fear, uncertainty, pain, and disappointment. Until Jesus was born, and they held a miracle in their arms.

In his Christmas carol “Silent Night,” Joseph Mohr described the night this way: “Silent night, holy night! All is calm, all is bright, ‘round yon virgin mother and Child.” His words evoke the peace and hope that only Jesus can provide. Even now when life seems unstable, chaotic, uncertain, Jesus’ presence can inspire us to still proclaim that all is calm and all is indeed bright in the midst of the Light of the world.

Dwell in Hope

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” – Romans 15:13 

“Therefore, my heart rejoiceth . . .  my flesh moreover shall dwell in hope.”

–Psalm 16:9 Darby Translation Bible

Last week in a phone conversation, my dear friend described an experience she had a couple of years ago as “being on the sharp edge of hopelessness.” As she comforted and encouraged me, I told myself I was not in that place. Discouraged. Frustrated. Overwhelmed. Weary. Unfortunately, that sounds dangerously close to hopelessness to me. Perhaps that’s why for months now God has encouraged me to focus on the word hope. It became a theme in my hand-lettering art and one day while looking for inspiration, I stumbled upon Psalm 16:9, which in the Darby translation ends “my flesh moreover shall dwell in hope.”

As the pandemic continues unabated and violent riots have swept the country like a scourge, I have continued to meditate on the verse. Strong’s Concordance says the word for “dwell” in Psalm 16:9 comes from the Hebrew yis-kon which is used to mean “to settle down, abide, to dwell.” It’s a strong word with the connotation not only of really living and being very present within a place, but it also speaks of contentment and peace.

The words “in hope” are lā-ḇe-ṭaḥ which Strong’s defines as “securely.” In the Bible, hope often is connected to faith which stems from our choice to trust God. Therefore, we can have hope and rest secure when we trust in God’s perfect, unchanging character and His eternal, unfailing love. As Savior, Redeemer, and Healer, Jesus is the very embodiment of hope so choosing to “remain, abide, and settle down” in His presence is choosing to dwell in the only secure source of living, lasting hope.

Cinderella's Worth

Cinderella has always been my favorite fairy tale. The glass slippers and glittering ball gown. A fairy godmother to grant all my wishes. A dreamy waltz with a handsome prince. And true love. When I was little, those were the things that drew me to the story. But as I’ve gotten older, I began to wonder why was Cinderella, and not another princess, really my favorite. The topic has resurfaced recently as I’ve been working on a fairy-tale themed display at work. 

So as my thoughts again turned to Cinderella, I began pondering her character rather than her wardrobe. She is a humble, optimistic girl who endures the loss of her father, the alternating abuse and neglect of her stepmother and stepsisters as well as their ridicule as she is made to live like a pauper while they live like royalty. Despite her challenges, Cinderella never lashes out at her tormenters. While her response might suggest she is weak, scripture would say otherwise. “Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. /Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:17-18, 21) 

Even in the midst of heart-breaking mistreatment, Cinderella manages to love her enemies and “do good” to those who hate her (Luke 6:27). When her step-family receives an invitation to the prince’s ball, Cinderella’s positive attitude shines through as she assumes she is invited as well. When her relatives then cruelly destroy the dress she had planned to wear, she still finds hope in her fairy godmother. Throughout all her trials, Cinderella perseveres, while maintaining her joy, hope and optimism. Her grasping, merciless stepmother and vain, spiteful stepsisters could never see her worth. But perhaps it’s Cinderella's strength of character more than her physical beauty which won Prince Charming’s heart. In the end, Cinderella’s goodness triumphs over the evil in her life. Now that’s a fairy tale princess I can believe in.

A Strange Easter

The last few weeks I have heard so many folks, Christian and non-Christian alike, say, “These are strange times.” Indeed, they are and as a result, this Easter was a little strange, too. This morning, my friends and I drove to church where an attendant held out a six-foot length of PVC pipe to help us park a “safe” distance away from other vehicles. We waved at the cute baby beside us then tuned the radio to the proper channel so we could hear the audio for church and turned our gaze to a giant screen, reminiscent of ones for drive-in movies. The only measure of normalcy was that the praise team led worship as usual followed by the pastor’s sermon. 

As I reflect on this morning’s unusual service, though, I think of how odd that first Resurrection day was. There was a violent earthquake. Angels whose “appearance was like lightning.” And an empty tomb. The women who loved Jesus and went to His grave expecting to anoint His broken, dead body must have been bewildered when they arrived and found Him gone. Then they heard the exultant angel’s message that Jesus had risen, “just as He said.” And there was Mary Magdalene who mistook Jesus for a gardener, yet instantly recognized Him when He called her by name. That evening, Jesus walked through a locked door into the room where His disciples were cowering in fear and declared, “Peace be with you!”

That first Easter was incomprehensible. It still is. The perfect Son of God died an agonizing death so we could have eternal life with Him and the Father. As if that gift is not enough, His sacrifice also offers us “abundant life” while we still walk this earth. All we have to do is believe in Him, accept Him as our substitution, and confess our sins. Out of His extravagant love and His overwhelming grace, the God of the universe and all creation, humbled Himself to take our place and endure the punishment we deserve. Strange indeed.

Burn the Ships

"Burn the ships, cut the ties

Send a flare into the night

Say a prayer, turn the tide

Dry your tears and wave goodbye

Step into a new day

We can rise up from the dust and walk away

We can dance upon our heartache, yeah

So, light a match, leave the past, burn the ships

And don't you look back…"

-- For King & Country

At the close of every year, I turn contemplative. I’ve been that way since I was in elementary school when on Christmas night I would crawl into bed, weighted down with a feeling of heaviness and sadness that the old year was passing. Thankfully, I learned to also look forward to the new year, anticipating its joys and its lessons. Still, I find that when a new year dawns, it takes me a few days, sometimes weeks, to work through my adjustment process. I review the previous year, analyzing it and trying to determine how I can grow in the new year. 

And while I don’t establish resolutions, I do set new year’s goals, usually spiritual, relational, and health ones. For the last handful of years, I’ve also tried to choose a Bible verse to set the tone for the year and to provide direction or a vision for me. I ask God to be at the center of the endeavor, hoping He will give me His wisdom and guidance. I haven’t gotten very far in the process yet for 2020, but I have been meditating on the song “Burn the Ships” by For King & Country. 

The song title and chorus are based on the idea that some European explorers and ancient military leaders, once they reached their destinations, would supposedly destroy their ships in an effort to keep their men from deserting when challenges arose. The spiritual metaphor is easy to establish and has been used by numerous pastors and Christian leaders, for Christ calls us to leave behind all we know and hold dear in order to follow Him. If we truly wish to become His disciples, we figuratively have to burn the ships that would take us away from Him, back to our old lives. After all, it is difficult to move forward if you are constantly looking back.

The Grace of Giving Thanks

As far back as I can remember my sister and I said “please” and “thank you” and “yes, ma’am” and “yes, sir.” Good manners were as natural to us as breathing, but astonished strangers in the grocery store used to ask my mom if they could buy me and my sister treats as a reward for our conduct. At the time I was barely out of diapers, and apparently my seemingly atypical actions had a significant impact on those around me. Mom declined their generosity, believing we should learn to “do right” simply because it was the right thing to do. Besides teaching us to use good manners in our speech, she and Daddy insisted we write thank-you notes to friends and relatives for gifts and special deeds of kindness. While my parents also modeled the behaviors they expected from my sister and me, they never explained their reasoning; perhaps the root of it all were the expectations of our ultra-polite Southern heritage. But I think their actions, words, and instruction also stemmed from their deep faith. They often reminded us that whatever we did in life, whether it was obeying them or our teachers or doing homework or chores, we should act as if we were doing those things for God (Colossians 3:17, 23). And by saying grace before meals, they taught us that humility and gratitude should be an integral part of our faith and our relationship with the Lord. 

Jesus Himself sets the example for all of us by offering thanks to God the Father in many circumstances. Matthew 15:36 records Jesus giving thanks to God for the bread and fish He broke before the miracle of feeding the 5,000. The gospel of John records Jesus as thanking God for hearing His prayers just before He calls Lazarus back from the dead. (John 11:41-43). Jesus even showed how we should give thanks in the worst of circumstances when He thanked God for the bread of the Passover and shared it with the disciples, telling them it represented His body that would be broken within hours by a Roman scourging and cross. (Matt. 26:26) With such a selfless example of gratitude, it’s no wonder the United Methodist word of service and communion for “The Great Thanksgiving” includes the exhortation:

“Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

It is right to give our thanks and praise.

It is right, and a good and joyful thing,

always and everywhere to give thanks to you,

Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth.”