My daughter rushed in from the backyard.
"Mom, there's a bird outside and it's hurt!"
I followed her out and saw my other children standing by some old branches. There, in the dirt, was a little sparrow. Its feathers were fluffed out, it was missing an eye, and it was sitting very still, as if it wanted to hide. I quietly walked over to it, and with little trouble, gently picked it up.
We brought the bird inside and prepared a box for it. As far I could tell, there wasn't much wrong with the bird. The eye injury was old and its wings weren't broken. But the little bird couldn't fly. My children were delighted with the prospect of a sparrow for a pet. They named it 'Cocoa' and watched over it as it tucked its head under a wing and took a nap.
But, a few hours later, delight turned to sorrow. Cocoa started to contort its body in distress, and soon, it was lying still in my daughter's hand. The children buried Cocoa outside (and somehow managed to misspell the name). I found my middle daughter crying later, and I let her cry. I told her that we did what we could, but we couldn't fix an internal problem. Nevertheless, the bird was able to rest (and die) in a warm, safe environment, and that it was good to care for living things, even if, in the end, we got nothing in return.
I'm saddened to think that our world doesn't always agree with that last statement. The more I read and hear about current trends, the more I see a shift in how we care for the weak, helpless, and needy. At the top of the list are the elderly, the disabled, the sick, and babies (born and unborn). Next on the list are neighbors, acquaintances, and family members who require more of our time, money, or energy.
We as humans naturally find it easier to care for people who can care back. It is easier to love those who can give us something in return. But is that how God sees us? Is that how He sees the sparrows? No, God cares for the sparrows (see Luke 12:6) though the sparrows can do nothing for God. And in the same way, God loves us, though we are of no benefit to Him. In fact, God's love for us COST Him something– His own son. And He does shed tears for us when He sees us hurting.
My family didn't make any big sacrifices for the little sparrow (we didn't catch any disease or parasite, we didn't spend any money besides buying a bag of bird seed) but I am still glad for the reminder that we need to care for the 'sparrows', even if it is at great cost to us.
I followed her out and saw my other children standing by some old branches. There, in the dirt, was a little sparrow. Its feathers were fluffed out, it was missing an eye, and it was sitting very still, as if it wanted to hide. I quietly walked over to it, and with little trouble, gently picked it up.
We brought the bird inside and prepared a box for it. As far I could tell, there wasn't much wrong with the bird. The eye injury was old and its wings weren't broken. But the little bird couldn't fly. My children were delighted with the prospect of a sparrow for a pet. They named it 'Cocoa' and watched over it as it tucked its head under a wing and took a nap.
But, a few hours later, delight turned to sorrow. Cocoa started to contort its body in distress, and soon, it was lying still in my daughter's hand. The children buried Cocoa outside (and somehow managed to misspell the name). I found my middle daughter crying later, and I let her cry. I told her that we did what we could, but we couldn't fix an internal problem. Nevertheless, the bird was able to rest (and die) in a warm, safe environment, and that it was good to care for living things, even if, in the end, we got nothing in return.
I'm saddened to think that our world doesn't always agree with that last statement. The more I read and hear about current trends, the more I see a shift in how we care for the weak, helpless, and needy. At the top of the list are the elderly, the disabled, the sick, and babies (born and unborn). Next on the list are neighbors, acquaintances, and family members who require more of our time, money, or energy.
We as humans naturally find it easier to care for people who can care back. It is easier to love those who can give us something in return. But is that how God sees us? Is that how He sees the sparrows? No, God cares for the sparrows (see Luke 12:6) though the sparrows can do nothing for God. And in the same way, God loves us, though we are of no benefit to Him. In fact, God's love for us COST Him something– His own son. And He does shed tears for us when He sees us hurting.
My family didn't make any big sacrifices for the little sparrow (we didn't catch any disease or parasite, we didn't spend any money besides buying a bag of bird seed) but I am still glad for the reminder that we need to care for the 'sparrows', even if it is at great cost to us.
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