Sparrows.

I'm sitting with Lea outside at Beacon Hall this morning in a voluntary quarantine. Trey was exposed to a good friend last week who is now positive for C19. Trey is merging respectfully into a two week isolation and waiting for his C19 test result. His unexpected slowing is being filled with the life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and retyping Lea's 50 page college thesis paper on the church's ministry to widows so that it is in a modern digital format. 3.5 floppies don't seem to be supported these days:)

There are a lot of birds at Beacon Hall most mornings. A lot. I'm hearing them now as I strike these keys. We are blessed by them and God's creativity in their presence. We enjoy noticing them swoop, dart, sing, yodel, circle, feed, swoon and surround. I am really thankful and really enjoy that when Jesus teaches, He uses daily, known things to teach us with. Bird, lily, salt, light. All of these are tucked right in the Bible book of Matthew, chapters 5 and 6. Not technical. Not complicated. Not abstract. Approachable, understandable and real. And daily. Sparrows and cardinals singing. The Tiger Lily receiving the bee and spreading life. Salt booming my watermelon. Light alerting the new morning mercy.

I am drawn to these thoughts this morning because the surrounding magnitude of these pandemic days, which are real, have come close to this home. We are waiting at Beacon Hall to know if C19 is closer to us. We are mindful of Grannie. God knows the droplets. If He numbers sand grains and names stars, the droplets are covered too. We are not immune from C19. We are not immune from trouble. We are not immune from the Creator's sovereign care. He's not asking anyone's permission for anything. He is He. And this is what the Sparrows are reminding me of. He is He.

I played this song by Cory Asbury for Lea this morning. It is called Sparrows. It is timely for these todays.

"The sparrows not worried about tomorrow, or the troubles to come The lilys not thinking about the seasons, the drought or the flood A tree that's planted by the water, isn't phased by the fire So why should I be?

You take good care of me You take good care of me You know what I need before I even ask a thing And You hold me in Your hands With a kindness that never ends I'm carried in Your love no matter what the future brings You take good care of me.

The sun's not worried about the winter, 'cause soon it will pass The light's not thinking about the darkness, or the shadow it casts A heart that's planted in forgiveness, doesn't dwell in the past So why should I be?

You take good care of me

You take good care of me.....

I know there must be more But I can’t get past Your kindness I know there's got to be more But I can’t get past Your goodness

You take good care of me You take good care of me You know what I need before I even ask a thing And You hold me in Your hands With a kindness that never ends I'm carried in Your love no matter what the future brings You take good care of me."

The salt sprinkles. The lily blooms. The light shines. The sparrow sings. And they are pointing. They are teaching. They are reminding today.

I am drawn to the lines tucked in the middle there. "I know there must be more, but I can't get past your kindness. I know there's got to be more, but I can't get past your goodness." Right smack in the middle of the uncertainty of pandemics from droplets and pandemics in hearts, I don't really want to get over the kindness and goodness of God today. I want it to halt me in how scandalously rich it is right in the guts of all the different pandemics.

Please Lord, help me. Help us.

And, an hour after writing these words....Trey is negative. Thanks be to God.

Sparrow singing.

There's more.