His Eye Is on the Sparrow

Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God? 

But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 

Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows.

Luke 12:6-7

Tonight we celebrated my grandmother's life. 

My family arrived at the church in the early afternoon to set up flowers & other memories for those who would come to the memorial service. The small chapel had 116 empty chairs neatly arranged anticipating the friends & loved ones expected to attend. I stood in awe as people poured in the doors of the church & greeted my father & his family. 

The once empty chairs were filled with people sharing stories about Grandma Gina. In her nearly 75 years of life, my grandmother impacted so many people for Christ! The small room was quickly packed to overflowing: chairs were pulled from neighboring rooms and set up as the aisles continued to shrink. The murmur of 200 voices filled the room with words of comfort & delightful memories. Of course, more than a few kindly old ladies hugged us grandchildren and pinched our cheeks.

Then, the service began.

As a Christian, I have always wondered how the unsaved are able to bear the loss of a loved one. What hope do they have of seeing their loved one again? Even if one does not believe in an afterlife what hope of peace is there?

Grandmas service was filled with peace and rejoicing--a conundrum, I'm sure to those who are not believers. People stood up one after another to give a testimony of how Christ was magnified through Grandma's life. I am not a crier (although I find that tears more readily appear in my eyes than they have in years past) but my eye filled with tears as person after person--young and old, male and female, family and friends--gave testimony. Grandma would have been honored to know that the testimony she left behind pointed others to the Person of Christ.

With shaking, sweaty hands, tears in my eyes, and a lump in my throat I stood up to play one last song for Grandma Gina. The selection was an easy one: "His Eye Is on the Sparrow".

What better way to honor Grandma Gina than to play a song on my flute that was a comfort to her: God was always watching & caring for her. Not only was she aware of God's presence in her life, but she was also a living testimony of Christ's love for depraved man.

I can no longer hear her voice humming & singing hymns as she reupholsters furniture in her garage, but time & time again those songs flood my mind & we sing a duet in my head. Why do we sing? The song says it all: I sing because I'm happy; I sing because I'm free! His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.

Why should I be discouraged and why should the shadows fall?
Why should my heart be lonely and long for heaven and home?
When Jesus is my portion, my constant Friend is He,
His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.

I sing because I'm happy;
I sing because I'm free;
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me.

Let not your heart be troubled; these tender words I hear;
And resting on his goodness I lose my doubts and fears;
For by the path He leadeth but one step I may see;
His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.

Whenever I am tempted; whenever clouds arise;
When songs give place to sighing; when hope within me dies;
I draw the closer to Him; from care He sets me free;
His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.


fun run

You know those people who run for fun? Don't you think they're crazy?

Honestly, how can anyone consider running fun? A frantically pumping heart, a dry mouth, burning lungs, & numb legs sound more like torture to me. As if running weren't torture enough, there are people who pay to run. They pay: "here's my money, can I run in a circle with you? I get a t-shirt?! Totally worth it!" NO.

For the past several years I have openly mocked my friends who run for fun. What weirdos! I chuckled as they groaned & rubbed sore muscles after a 5K. I laughed at their mud-caked bodies & sore muscles after the Warrior Dash. I winced & shook my head when they ran a half-marathon. Okay, so running is their thing, but it's definitely not mine.

Then, one day it happened: I agreed to run a 5K.

Insane, I know, but there I was 6 weeks out &, admittedly, completely unfit. So I did what any intelligent college graduate would do: I set up a schedule to start running. Of course, initially I planned to run the 1.5 mile trek through my neighborhood 3 days a week, but that was swiftly shaved down to 2 days a week. And only if the weather was good. Remember, I'm not a runner. I resolved that I was running to stay healthy & to get to know my friend better . . . the fact that sweets would be waiting at the finish line was also a fantastic motivation.

December 15, I ran my first 5K: the Candy Cane Course. I met my goal of finishing under 33 minutes (32:48 to be precise) & celebrated my milestone with milk & cookies.

And then, somehow, I kept running. Not uber consistently, but at least 1-2 times a week as long as there was good weather. In fact, I even began checking the weather so I could run.

I became what I had mocked for so long: a runner.

I still can't say that I love running. In fact, during the entirety (32:39) of our first 5K for this year (the Sweetheart Shuffle--she chose me over her boyfriend!), my friend & I groaned, "why do we do this again?" Our answer? Time together, the crazy costumes, & the sweets. We're planning on completing all 6 races in the "Holiday Fun Run" series this year. Of course, we're also trying to convince a few more friends to join us. I can't wait to have spend some quality time with my friend as we run for our sweets.

Who knows, maybe by the end of it all I'll realize, like all the other crazies, that running is fun.

Broken Guitar Strings

Yesterday morning I intended to serenade my junior high girls' Sunday School class with my miserable excuse of chording talent. I've practiced two or three songs all summer until I felt fairly confident I could accompany the girls' singing. Nothing to terrifying: Amazing Grace, I'll Say Yes, Lord, Yes, and I Want to Do Thy Will--you know, songs we've sung as a class for months.

So I arrived to church early, slipped out of orchestra as soon as I could, & snuck into the classroom to tune my guitar. Yes, I slunk through the church building--I'm not that confident in my music abilities. If I was going to make a fool of my self, it was only going to be in front of the 8-10 girls in my class.

I sat in a chair in the corner of the classroom hunched over my guitar. The only light in the room was the glow my smartphone cast on my face as I used my G string tuning app. Pitiful, I know, but sometimes I can be extremely vain.

For twenty minutes I struggled to tune my guitar. Twenty minutes. It's okay, you can laugh. And, yes, I've tuned a guitar before--it has never taken me above 2 minutes. I felt like an idiot.

My D string made painful twangs as I stretched it to its limit. Each time I turned my tuning knob I whispered, "Lord, please don't let this break." It didn't. My G string did. My heart stopped for a full three seconds as I stared blankly at the third string laying limp against my guitar. I was so frustrated I did something I rarely do: I cried.

My mother graciously helped me sneak my guitar out to the car [yes, I am that vain; yes, my mom is that awesome; & yes, it is hard to "sneak" a guitar anywhere] & rebuked my ridiculous attitude. I was frustrated &I was not trying to hide it.

What did she say?

"Obviously this wasn't the Lord's plan for you today. Ask Him what His plan is."

OUCH. Talk about a major slap in the face.

Twenty minutes later, I sat in the same room, with the lights on, encircled by seven junior high ladies. What did we talk about? God's will for our lives. What illustration did I use? Broken guitar strings.

God allowed my guitar string to break so I could learn what His will was for me that day.

But the lesson doesn't stop there. God was still working on me.

Midway through his morning message, God's Plan for Lasting Change, Pastor Kevin walked over the the piano & droned one key repeatedly. His illustration? Tuning a piano. As I sat there in my family's regular pew three quarters of the way back on the left side of the auditorium, a wave regret & insight struck me: broken guitar strings.

There are areas in my life that need to change & I've been trying to fine-tune them on my own. I've stretched myself to my limit. Before I know it a loud twang stops my heart & I sit dumb-founded at my own foolishness.

Goodness knows when I try to change on my own I will only end up with broken guitar strings.I need the Lord to tune the chords of my heart so I can appropriately praise His name.

3 Questions

Personal devotions have always been a struggle for me. Each time I pull out my Bible, my mind races with excuses: I lack focus. I fail. I don't know what to study. I'm tired. I become enslaved by the daunting task that seems impossible to me. And it is. How can I, a sinful, depraved being, possible hope for a vibrant, intimate relationship with God? On my own, I can't.

Simple Requirements

At 5:15 this morning my alarm clicked on & my ipod glowed in its stand as music filled the air. I love waking up to music--so much more motivating than the annoying, incessant blaring buzz of a typical alarm. Insead of being ripped from my slumber in anger & annoyance, I am calmly awakened by a whisper of one of my favorite songs.

Trying Perfect Patience

This week I had the wonderful opportunity to guest-post on a friend's blog. Noah's blog, The Student Center, has challenged me to grow in Christ & lead with excellence. Take a few minutes to read my article Trying Perfect Patience (a study of James 3:6-8) & then poke around Noah's page & be encouraged.

College Lessons

God has been stretching me in a variety of ways over the past year. No matter where I am, He continues to teach me about who He is, who I am in Him, & who He wants me to be. As I prepare to graduate from college & close another chapter in my life, God reminded me of some of the great lessons He has taught me over the past five years.

Change is scary, but good.
Believe it or not, I am naturally shy & moving from Missouri to Wisconsin was terrifying. But, before I knew it, terror turned to ease, ease to comfort, & comfort to love. I wouldn't trade my four years on campus for anything. Over the years I have faced a few exciting & scary changes, but I can proudly attest that [by God's grace] each change has been good.

I am never done learning, growing, & stretching.
I am definitely not the same person who stepped on campus in September 2007. God has used those scary changes to teach me that He is still molding me into the person He wants me to be. I have learned to accept myself, to reach out to others, & to push myself outside of my comfort zone. Sure, growing hurts at times, but the rewards are priceless.

Life is ministry . . .
. . . and ministry is global. While God has not specifically called me to minister overseas, He has made it clear that a life sacrificed to Him is a life of ministry. I have found no greater joy than the joy of serving Christ through campus leadership, extension ministries, friendships, & now, teaching. Wherever I am & whatever I do my life is to be a ministry of Christ. Maybe one day I will get to minister outside of the United States, but for now, I'm delighted to be serving Christ in my Jerusalem.

Dreams can be reality.
Did you know that God wants to fulfill the greatest desires of your heart? While I definitely still have dreams that I eagerly anticipate becoming reality, God has fulfilled so many of my dreams that I have no right to complain. I am an English teacher--that's a dream I've had since 2nd grade. How cool is my God?!

Relationships are vital.
Over the past 5 years God has brought people into [& taken them out of] my life that have been vital to my growth in Him. Not every relationship will grow with the same intensity or fullness, but know that God has a purpose for each person, each conflict, each relationship, that He sends our way.

Laugh at yourself.
I love to laugh, but sometimes I seriously struggle with laughing at myself [especially when I'm laughing]. College taught me to embrace my quirks [including my obnoxious, loud, goose-like laugh] because true friends will love me better for them.

Don't sweat the small stuff.
Sounds easy, doesn't it? Infected with the cancer of worry, I often make a mountain out of a mole hill. The Lord has taught me to take a deep breath, relax, & let Him take control.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
While I was away from home, God taught me to cherish my family, but now that I am away from college, He has taught me to cherish the friends I met there.

I know that I will carry these lessons with me throughout the rest of my life, but I'm also excited to see how God will continue to mold me into the image of His Son. Who knows, maybe five years from now I will be able to add to & expand upon these college lessons.