The little English sparrow is a great success story.  The insignificant little bird is actually not a sparrow, but a member of the weaver family of birds.  Brought to America, probably as a stowaway on early ships, it took hold in the New World and became one of the most dominant birds we see. Jesus also spoke of sparrows, the sparrows of Jerusalem.  He remarked in Matthew 10 that two of them sold for just a penny.  Then He makes the astounding observation that not one of them falls to the ground apart from the Father.  The implication is that not only does He know when the tiniest of His creation dies, He is there.  Jesus is making the obvious thing obvious.  If God loves His little sparrows like that, then how much more does He love His children? When we are in trouble, God comes to our rescue.  The psalmist in Psalms 102 considers himself as a sparrow alone upon a housetop facing great danger.  That’s a pretty good picture of a helpless and hapless individual. But in verse 17 he says the Almighty would regard the prayer of the destitute. No one is ever alone who has his Father.

I was doubly blessed in life.  I had a great earthly father who introduced me to our Father.  When I was a child and sick, my dad would pat me on the chest and say, “You’ll be alright, little man”, and I knew I would be because he said so.  Over sixty years have passed, more or less, since my dad took care of me that way, but I’ve never forgotten it.  To this day when I’m in trouble, physically or mentally, I pat my chest and think of my dad so long ago.

Our heavenly Father is like that too.  In time of trouble He comes to our sickbed, pats our chest and whispers, “It’s going to be alright, I love you so”. Years ago I asked a friend of mine who was an expert in birding this question. Given there are millions of sparrows, why don’t you see the streets littered with their little bodies? Surely many of them die every day – and yet, do you see them? This puzzle prompted me to write the following poem several years ago. I hope you enjoy it.

Sparrows

Watch the sparrows in the trees,

Flitting, bouncing thru the leaves.

On the ground and in the air,

Here a single, there a pair.

Ever in prancing hurry,

To and fro they scurry.

Building a nest that looks a crown,

Daring the wind to tear it down,

Endless days of golden hue

Sailing skies of velvet blue.

But life is not forever,

For time will break the tether.

Birth, life and then to die,

No more the vaulted sky to fly.

Somewhere one of them will stumble,

And to the earth it will tumble.

Its friends will stay, but it will go,

Tell me please, I’d like to know,

Where upon this vast terrestrial ball,

Do all the little sparrows fall?