Known More Than Sparrows


We've moved six times over the last two and a half years, between apartments and condos and my parents' house.

Our first apartment was on the second floor, squished in the city with buildings and cars surrounding it.  There was a flock of sparrows that perched on the wires that ran from our building to the one next door; every day they'd settle there and talk, and I'd smile as they gave me a glimpse of nature.  We made that apartment a sweet little place, despite my discomfort being in a city.

Our first and second condos were nestled off of a main highway, with trees and grass out the front and back.  A bit more space, and removed from downtown.  To my delight there were countless birds that lived in our neighborhood, including the little brown sparrows.  It felt a bit more homey, and the sparrows loved to sit on our roof and tell us about their day.

And now, at the home we're settling into -- the sparrows frequent our backyard tree and the puddles in our driveway.  Still the same, talkative and carefree, just enjoying the moment.

Every single place we've gone, including the stays at my parents' in between, I've looked outside and seen the sparrows.  They make me smile every time; a sort of unexpected constant through all the change.

When I prayed for peace amidst the city life I wasn't fond of, God reminded me through the sparrows.  When we moved on to the next step, He reminded me through the sparrows.  And again here, He reminds me through the sparrows:

"Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin?  And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will.  But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows."

Matthew 10:29-31

God knows even the flights and ways of a sparrow; how much more does He know our days and lives?  How much more does He know us?

Moving has been of the changes in life that causes me the most stress.  I've learned bit by bit to be content with where I am, but I am by no means one who enjoys all the change.  I like to settle, to dig deep in where I am and know that I'll most likely be there for a good while.

So He reminds me over and over (He's so patient and consistent) that He cares, and that He provides for each step of the way.  And truly, He does.  He provides in the unknown and the known; He watches over me and knows what will happen in the future.  He goes before, and I've found such peace in that.

He is a good, good Father.

Amy Parsons