By Pat DeFeo, with additional reflection by Linda Cobourn
Matthew 6:26 “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”
There’s a hymn many of us grew up singing, one that rises in the heart long before it reaches the lips. It begins with a question every believer knows well:
“Why should I feel discouraged? Why should the shadows come?”
These are not abstract questions. They are the quiet, aching ones that surface in the middle of ordinary days—when fear creeps in, when loneliness settles heavy, when the longing for “heav’n and home” feels sharper than usual. The hymn answers with a truth so simple and so profound:
“His eye is on the sparrow, And I know He watches me.”
A Sparrow in the Feeder
I have always loved birds. Their smallness, their freedom, their songs. One afternoon, as I glanced out the window to check the feeder, I saw a tiny sparrow dangling by one leg, caught and helpless. I rushed outside and freed him, holding his trembling body in my hands. His eyes were wide with fear. His leg looked broken. I wondered where I could place him so he could rest safely—perhaps even die peacefully.
Then I remembered the empty nest still tucked in the bush out front. I carried him there, tears gathering, and laid him gently inside. He didn’t struggle. He simply rested. I whispered a prayer, trusting that the God who watches sparrows would watch this one too.
The next morning, I hurried out to check on him. The nest was empty. He was gone—strengthened, restored, and flown away.
The God Who Sees
God cared for that sparrow. And Jesus tells us plainly: we are far more valuable than the sparrow.
If His eye is on the smallest creature in our yard, His heart is surely on us—our fears, our shadows, our loneliness, our longing. He watches. He strengthens. He restores. He lifts us when we cannot lift ourselves.
This is the comfort Civilla Martin wrote about in 1905. It is the comfort Jesus spoke in Matthew 6. It is the comfort we still need today.
Reflection
- Where have you felt “caught” lately—tangled, weary, or afraid?
- What would it look like to rest in the nest of God’s care, trusting Him to strengthen you?
- How might God be inviting you to notice His watchful presence in small, ordinary moments?
A Prayer
Lord, thank You that Your eye is on the sparrow—and on us. Thank You for watching, for tending, for restoring. Teach us to rest in Your care, and to rise again in Your strength. Amen.
“If His eye is on the smallest sparrow, His heart is surely on us.”
