His Eye is on the Sparrow

Between a late supper and the match between France and Portugal, Shern Ren listened to The Idea of North's Evidence. He pointed out one song to me--the hymn, 'His Eye is on the Sparrow'. It'd been ages since I last heard it.

I dedicate this entry to a friend, with this message: no matter how light a person is, only birds can fly without mechanical aid. Humans who attempt usually fall to the ground. ;-)


Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,
When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Refrain:
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.

"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.

Refrain

Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,
When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,
I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Refrain


It was written by Civilla D. Martin in 1905 and set to music some days later by Charles H. Gabriel. In Civilla's own words:

Early in the spring of 1905, my hus­band and I were so­journ­ing in El­mi­ra, New York. We con­tract­ed a deep friend­ship for a cou­ple by the name of Mr and Mrs Doolit­tle—-true saints of God. Mrs Doo­lit­tle had been bed­rid­den for nigh twen­ty years. Her hus­band was an in­cur­a­ble crip­ple who had to pro­pel him­self to and from his bus­i­ness in a wheel chair. De­spite their af­flict­ions, they lived hap­py Christ­ian lives, bring­ing in­spir­a­tion and com­fort to all who knew them. One day while we were vi­sit­ing with the Doo­lit­tles, my hus­band com­ment­ed on their bright hope­ful­ness and asked them for the se­cret of it. Mrs Doo­lit­tle’s re­ply was sim­ple: "His eye is on the spar­row, and I know He watch­es me." The beau­ty of this sim­ple ex­press­ion of bound­less faith gripped the hearts and fired the imag­in­a­tion of Dr Mar­tin and me. The hymn "His Eye is on the Spar­row" was the out­come of that ex­per­i­ence.

The verse which was alluded to by Mrs Doolittle is part of a passage that still never fails to encourage and inspire me.

"I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more. But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear him who, after the killing of the body, has power to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him. Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows."

--Jesus, Luke 12:4-7 (NIV)


It rained in school yesterday, from about 10.30 till 11-something. Hasn't rained at that hour in quite some time. It's raining even as I type this. Since two years ago, I've always associated rain with new beginnings and second chances. This year, I'm learning more about another kind of rain, one which does not immediately cleanse and refreshen the land, but instead takes the long road of pain to purge the soul and wring the heart first; this is the rain whose clouds lie in our eyes. The rain which God himself shares with us.


The 5th of July is International Workaholics' Day. Here's something all workaholics (and other people who try to carry the world on their shoulders, like the Greek god Atlas) should remember:

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me--watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."

--Jesus, Matthew 11:28-30 (The Message)


On Tuesday, while I was going through my winning essay with Jean, I suddenly remembered that I wrote it post-Easter, in the aftermath of the first Editors' Crisis. The opening paragraph of 'Into Terra Nova', which Ching Yeng liked (thanks; a writer always welcomes compliments!), reflects very much my experience and hope during that particularly trying period:

It is said that the darkest hour is before the dawn, and the irony is that no sign appears to indicate that the night is letting up, until the moment the shafts of morning gold pour out, robbing the darkness of its reign, as if there were no such thing as night. In very much the same way, trees grow from indiscriminate seeds and spring breaks out of the dead winter—symbols of hope triumphing against all despair; life emerging victorious over death; a whole new beginning resounding with the echoes of hope.


When I got back from Istana Budaya on Wednesday, I had two regrets. I don't think they really matter now, but I'll mention them anyway, so I can avoid such blunders in the future.

Firstly, I regret not walking Li-Shia to her car. Not that she wouldn't be able to do it herself, but it's a gesture expected of a friend, no? (Sorry!)

Secondly, I should've bought The Idea of North's Evidence, especially since they were autographing on that night. It's not life and death, but I know she immensely enjoyed their performance.

Much of what we do is not a matter of life and death, yet these little interests and passions and off-road excursions are part of what makes a full life, and sometimes, these are the things that help make life worth living. Like photography and literature and music. I wouldn't die without them. But I certainly wouldn't be who I am either.


(The picture above is of a sparrow resting on electric cables outside my house. There's nothing special about it, nothing fancy that shows it was taken with an SLR. But I somehow like its silhouette simplicity, and found it somewhat apt for this entry.)