Thursday, February 9, 2017

Artists and Sparrows

My favorite American song writer was Stephen F. Foster.  His musical scores and lyrics changed and molded American music.  He was the most widely sung secular American song writer of the 19th century.  His music was more widely sung and known than are the contemporary writings of John Grisham, Danielle Steele and Steven King combined.  With that in mind it may surprise people to know that Stephen Foster died in abject poverty.  It is not that he squandered his money; it is simply that the art inside of him had to escape and he gave almost all of it away for pennies a song. 
Artists such as writers, painters and musicians are far more often in the bottom ten percent of income than the top.  What they produce has to be produced.  It is their contribution to society.  Holding it in is like trying to cork a volcano.  So, as a writer I understand being in the bottom ten percent of earners. 
That is why I like sparrows.  Yes, that does make sense.  There are a lot more sparrows than there are cardinals or finches or bluebirds.  People seldom ooh and aah at a sparrow.  But while they are not highly regarded by men, they are highly regarded by God.  I like to feed the birds.  Watching them eat outside the window is enjoyable for my Bride and me.  Because of income limits I can’t afford fancy bird seed that attracts all the more beautiful species.  But, friends of ours give us stale bread each week, bags of stale bread each week.  We put that out and guess who comes to eat it?  It is not the cardinals or the finches.  It is not even the nuthatches or chickadees.  It is the sparrows and starlings.  Through me, via my friends, God provides daily bread for them.  God cares for sparrows and God cares for me.  (Matt. 10:29)
The hymns of the evangelistic era took on a new component in their themes.  They became much more personal expressions of praise.  This is what God has done for me, they said.  They still exalted His glory, His power, His truth and His grace, but they framed it in a new context.  This is true and it happened to me.  One such song from that era is “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” by Civilla Martin.

“Let not your heart be troubled,” His tender word I hear, and resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears; though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see; His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me; His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.  I sing because I’m happy, I sing because I’m free, for His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.


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