His eye is on the sparrow...

While having my morning coffee, a few days ago, I watched the birds at the bird feeders on my patio. They push and shove and flutter their wings as a threat to any other bird trying to get a place in line on the perches. They scatter more seed onto the cement below, than they get by all their fussing. Most of the ground feeders are busily gathering their breakfasts in the meantime.

One day, I noticed a crippled sparrow. One foot was missing, and his tail feathers went slightly ascew. He hopped a few steps, pecked a seed, then had to rest, by "letting himself down" like a mother hen fluffing herself over her chicks. Then, he'd raise himself on his one good leg, and hop to another choice seed, and repeat the peck and rest process. He probably was glad for those up above him who were providing his scattered meal for him. He may have even been thankful. Who knows?

This morning, I saw him again. I wept. To think that this poor crippled sparrow, knew where to find good food, even though he didn't know who was providing it. And because he had wings, he could fly just like all the other birds. He flew up to the bird bath and helped himself to a good drink before flying away.

I am learning ever so slowly that my Heavenly Father up above me is mindful of my wounds, nearly crippled by losing my Other Half, and He has given me wings to fly to Him for comfort and refreshment just as often as I remember to go where He leads me.