His Eye is on the Sparrow...
Our car dash board read -8 degrees at 2:30 Sunday afternoon. That was the high December 31, 2017. New Year's day we reached -2 below zero. To say that our stove had trouble this last week trying to keep the house warm would be an understatement. It reminds me of the phrase: 'These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.'
Yes, we do live here on purpose. No, the weather isn't normally this cold, but it does dip down this low on occasion. I must admit that this isn't really a favorite temperature. There is no remembrance of summer, and the sunshine isn't warming us nearly as much as we'd like. At this time of the year we try to keep the bird feeder filled. Even knowing that the Heavenly Father cares for his sparrows, we do so not because they can't find food, but because it becomes difficult for them, and we enjoy watching their antics.
We have many different birds visit the bird feeder. My favorite is the cardinal--well, I do like the nuthatch, downy woodpecker, flicker...
It was over twenty years ago now, I drove to my local feed 'elevator' to get corn for our milk cow. For those of you not familiar with country lingo, the elevators of which I speak are businesses which farmers sell their cash crops (corn, soy beans, some times oats type of crops) to for money, or at times just for storage. There are a number of them scattered across the state in many small towns etc. We didn't have enough land to raise our own feed for our milk cows, so we bought corn, oats, and some molasses for our cattle.
As I was getting our feed a sparrow somehow joined himself to my kids in our vehicle. It was a common sparrow, but I told the person helping me load our corn I would take it out to the country so it could find a home. I was told that common sparrows like that are so destructive that the elevator often put out poison to get rid of them, and my sparrow more than likely would not survive. Well, I figured I'd still give the wee bird a chance and let it loose in a field.
Many times in this world I see things that make me wonder. What makes a difference? I saw a news-clip of a woman with thirteen children. Her significant other was in the pokey for some crime, and she was mad. She didn't have food, clothing, or furniture, and 'somebody needs to take responsibility' for my kids. Local charities had been helping, government services was paying her rent, but apparently there was a gap and she needed more.
I don't know what would make a difference in her case, or a similar case. Children are a blessing, even thirteen children would be. My aunt and uncle had ten children, and my husband and I had seven, but there was a difference. We (and my aunt/uncle) fed, clothed, and housed our children without charity or government help. We had a large garden, people gave us hand me down clothes, I sewed, patched and mended clothes, cooked home made meals—we made ends meet often by the sweat of our brow. Sometimes it wasn't easy, but we took personal responsibility.
