Lowly sparrow, you in your stubble field Are God’s example and encouragement To stand behind a thinly-feathered shield With nothing more as an accouterment Than simple faith in what tomorrow brings: All things are set before you, every seed And sunray comes delivered without strings; God will provide you everything you need But gives you more, the time and voice to sing!
Sing boldly, bird, across the stubble field, Show us your color and your gilded wing, Your air of confidence, that all may yield And pause, to catch the truth within the fable Of fearlessness and food at every table. The sparrow chirps, “But who am I to be The center of attention? I believe Your story: God is good, even to me, And daily God provides, and I receive Abundantly beyond what I deserve, But that’s the point. You call on me to sing For all I’m worth; you’re telling me to serve In song as if my voice made everything Acceptable, but take a look at me: My feathers are the shades of sand and dirt, My wings are short and my ability To fly will never take me far from earth, And now you’re asking me to join the choir Of angels, as if song could take me higher?” Yes, little sparrow, by your very word You are acceptable; indeed, you were before The first note of your song was ever heard, But you will please your maker even more If you will sing. Sing loud for all you’re worth, But louder still for all that you’ve been given: From seed and stubble of your mother earth, To air and sunshine sent to you from heaven, For every camouflage and coloring Designed to keep you safely unrevealed, For all the intricacies of your wing Designed to let you navigate the field. O sparrow, sparrow, know that you are gifted And by your song the whole world is uplifted.
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