Of Sparrows and Such copyright Doug Blair, Waterloo, ON, 2017
Sparrows and Swallows
Psalm 84:
3 Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O LORD of hosts, my King, and my God.
4 Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will be still praising thee. Selah. I have always taken delight in the images of this Psalm. The House of God is not a place for greatness and pomp; rather for the simple and contented. Little creatures doing what they were made to do, and happily so. The sparrow communes in playful chatter and hops around in search of the food at hand. The swallow seems a more isolated creature with breathtaking flight patterns plucking the insects a hazardous two inches from the water's surface at tremendous speed. She also plasters a miraculous nest on perpendicular walls and corners with no apparent under-support. The Temple is safe for their kind and safe for their youngsters. There is almost a child-like air to everything; and indeed the messages of the place are intended for the unsophisticated. And these children are content that it should be so:
10 For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness.
They are made the custodians of the greatest of messages, the Testament of God:
11 For the LORD God is a sun and shield: the LORD will give grace and glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly. In this statement we see the whole spectrum of scripture. "Sun" the centre and source of the whole universe in creation and procreation. "Shield" a particular defender of a peculiar people in the lineage of the faith of Abraham. "Grace" in the Good News of the mission and success of Jesus the Saviour. "Glory" in the expectation of the redeemed starting now and never ending.
Sparrow
A sparrow the image And she lonely seeks out food. From the bushes and recesses For a hopeful waiting brood. And the cosmos spins around her And she seems a trivial thing But the Maker of the cosmos Knows her lot, formed her wing. A sparrow the image And the day seems cold as death But the Keeper gives her wrapping And a cheerful singing breath. And she greets the paltry sunshine Of a birthing winter's day With assurance that her Keeper Sees her through to flowering May. A sparrow the image The dark days still abound And tooth and claw and slander Wait for her on shadowed ground. But she finds her way to Zion And a nest within its walls And quite certain Loving Deity Knows of each her flights and falls.
Sparrows’ Hope
The wind is whipping Cold and drear The shortest day Is almost here And with a muffled Wrapping meet I hit the snows And hit the street Some things to sort out On my own As this a fast year Almost gone. And frets and fears Like chilling wind Attempt my courage
To unwind. What’s that a bush? With berries red Most freeze dried Where the birds are led They chirp and hop And sing and sort And whisper this Their wise report: ‘We do what we Were made to do And trust a loving God comes through We fluff our stuff And seize the warm And have this day Quite free from harm.’
Wayward Child
You have set the farthest star You have heard the hatchling’s cry You have timed the tides afar And designed each wondrous eye. There is not invention made That you have not forged the thought
Neither nature’s hues portrayed Neither moving music wrought. You should have my constant praise And arrest my heart and mind But the press of common days Takes me off just like the wind. I might try to come in prayer To the Source of all things good But the words are seldom there To adore you as I should. Could your grace just tune my heart? Could your touch just bend my knee? I am yours and set apart Help this wayward child to see.
Reverie
Seven fifteen AM today and sun coming up in a blue and orange partially clouded sky. Our factory has a wide open south-eastern vantage point for many sky events.
Large piles of snow banked all around the steelyard. Finished products and racks draped with clinging crusty white. Not too cold today after several days of much worse.
It just felt good to wander a bit in the bracing early morning.
And then I heard him. Somewhere in the bushes down by the little creek beyond our southern fence-line. Chickadee – chickadee-dee-dee-dee. My little black-capped friend announcing, “Yeah this is pretty good isn’t it.”
I just chuckled to myself and listened for a couple of minutes more. The sound of other birds joined in , but little black-cap was certainly the featured soloist. (Now about that snow-filled barrel of bolts that I was looking for…)
A Walk in the Bush
So many of the Christian blogs that I sample show a regret on the part of the writer that he/she does not give a testimony often enough. They believe that they lack the boldness or that they do not seem to find the time. This restlessness to be “doing something for the Lord” is not His plan. I know a man who goes every Thursday noon hour to the same street corner near the City Hall to distribute Gospel tracts to complete strangers. That is ‘his thing”. I don’t believe that it is for me, although I spent an entire summer with a friend doing the same on Wednesday evenings. It seemed that we were more of a bother than a help. Some would smile acknowledging that our hearts were right in the venture. Some were irritated, but that was really with God and His Word and not
with us. Friends have told me that the word of God never comes back void. Yeah, that is in Isaiah 55. What if we were to regard witnessing for Christ as if it were bird-watching in the bush? I do some of that with great pleasure. The fresh air, the sun, the sounds and the exciting prospect of a discovery. If I come across an interesting specimen, I make the most of the moment and delve into the details. If the feathered guy sticks around we have a little exchange, and together enjoy God’s creation and our harmony in it. If I come up against one that seems to have me stumped, I refer to the Guidebook on Birds. I am in no way minimalizing here any of the people I might meet with a possible word of witness for Jesus. I respect them and their experience of life. I am simply suggesting the sense of adventure, freshness and spontaneity of it all. Jesus walked this way throughout Galilee. He said in Acts One that we were to be ‘witnesses unto Him’ in all places. That involves more than the speaking of portions of scripture or the handing out of literature. It is you, the total package, a living epistle for the Lord, saturated in His ethic, quickened by words of Gospel promise, wafting His aroma, and apparently enjoying it. Savvy?
Wednesday Night…Ten Minutes Out
There’s a storm breeze. We’ve had it with the City. Stifling hot day. Concrete and heat wall. Motoring North of town past Conestogo. Blackbirds sail over young corn-rows Surveying the future yield. Golden wheat reminds of sunnier times Now black edge of storm floats over. Mother and daughter – Mennonites Show expressions of confidence and delight As they flick the reins And a two-horse team Picks up the pace in the gravel margin. Our Toyota purrs past these Clopping fellow travelers. A pleasant wave. Farm neighbors further on Host the early season flower table. Cash jar to one side – all brilliant yellow And violet. Windows full open now For the breeze and the fragrance. Mown hay – a father in the cab
With rosy-cheeked child on his lap Steering the rig‌well, sort of. A scolding of red-wing Piercing our space, Then left behind Somewhere in the tall grass. We look for it – the lane Try to remember the advance markings Two tall silos, a long mustard poultry barn. Reid Woods Drive Gravel surface, but recently graded And a favourite side lane Where we park, watching goldfinches bob; Crops clapping fragile hands; And pigeons playing musical chairs On the barns opposite. They also sense the rain’s approach. Rejoicing in the now.
Matthew Ten
Jesus was preparing His disciples for the challenges of ministry. Speaking of simple equipment, hospitality or lack of same, artless spoken messages to the hungry about the Kingdom of Heaven. He suggested that there would be rewards and great opposition, just as their Master was facing.
Treachery would include those close, even to the death. But they were not to fear. The Heavenly Father had counted and treasured the very hairs of their head. Then He spoke of the comparative small value of sparrows in the marketplace. He said that God knew of the sufferings and falls of each one. How much more would He value the obedience and treasured hopes of children of faith? He the epitome of Love, Wisdom, Compassion and Power?
Now mark this friends. There was nothing in this address from Christ guaranteeing immunity from suffering or death for the Gospel's sake or otherwise. Pain would come to many in a fallen world where free choices and selfishness would often bring disaster. BUT the assurance looked beyond this mortal life to the place of “coming through� in God's much larger scheme, ending in that Glory around the throne of His Son (in Revelation 5: 9-12).