His eye is on the sparrow...

During a fitful late afternoon nap, I dreamed I was in a battle between good and evil.
Those fighting on the side of darkness were quick and elusive, with equally dark countenances and
bat-like wings. Those on the side of light were swift and valiant, with blindingly white and majestic wings.

Except for me. My wings were grey and brown, like an ordinary sparrow. I couldn't engage with the enemy; I wasn't strong enough. All I could do was flit around. I was scared, but the more pressing emotion was an overwhelming sense of frustration. My comrades were slaying the creatures with power, while I was using all my strength to stay one step ahead of their greedy clutches.

I didn't think much of this dream until tonight. I've been struggling lately, burdened with loneliness and longing. The thought creeps into my head that I'm invisible, and it's easy to believe. Who is seeking me? It seems as if no one is. I go through the motions of my day and stay up at night until my eyes can't stay open, that way I can fall asleep quickly and avoid those thoughts that only come at bedtime. It isn't true that I am never happy, that the sun never shines upon me. That warmth just seems to be a rarity rather than the norm: it feels like I've lost Kaleigh...that my confidence is gone like a robin in winter.

As a follower of Christ, my identity is supposed to be centered in Him. Sadly, I'm not very good at this. I flit around, trying to please everyone else, trying to get noticed, trying to gain affirmation from people. When all of this fails, as it is prone to do, I come back to Christ, a broken little bird. "'Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father's care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.'" Matthew 10:29-31
I have a tendency to dislike myself, and sometimes I think, "My problems are so silly. They are insignificant."  What a great promise to know that I am worth more than many sparrows. He cares for a common, plain bird: when I fall, He cares. He longs to be gracious to me, and to show me mercy. He cares when His child, a little red-headed bird who stubbornly holds fast to her desires, nurses a broken wing...a broken heart.

What a strange and wonderful and wild thing a life in Christ is! Every day I have two choices: to fly to Him or away from Him. Every day I have to surrender my desire. Every day I present to Him my broken wing, and allow Him to heal it. Of course, this will not be easy: I will see others who seem to have it all together: those who beat the air with brilliant and mighty wings. I will want to escape to the familiar dreariness of my ragged nest of selfishness. However, I know in my heart that He cares for me, and He will make all things beautiful in His time. He will feed me and cover me with His own wings. I know that His eye is on the sparrow...

and I know He watches me.