His Eye Is On The Sparrow

This is one of my favorite songs. I’ve sung this in church a few times, and it always encourages me. The verses really get to the heart of the matter. Our struggle is spiritual.

Who wrote “His Eye Is On The Sparrow”?
Answer:   Words by Civilla D. Martin, 1905
Music by Charles H. Gabriel, 1905

Lyrics
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.

Chorus:
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.

Chorus

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.

Scroll to the bottom of this website to read the history of this song. Our circumstances are not what controls our joy, but our relationship with God.

http://johntroutman.com/lyrics/hiseyeisonthesparrow.html

Here is the tune.

Thanks, Mom

Thanks, Mom.

For teaching me the enjoyment of singing. We sang in the car on the way to church, on long trips, and while doing the dishes. We sang in four part harmony old gospel songs and newer songs. Thanks, Mom.

For making the best homemade bread in the world. Once a week, almost every week. When we came home from school, the house would be filled with the glorious aroma of fresh homemade bread. You always had soft butter, jam, and peanut butter set out. My sister, brothers, and I would devour a fresh loaf or two, and fight over the heels. Sometimes you fried dough dodgers out of the leftover dough. Thanks, Mom.

For telling me how much you appreciated and loved my husband. And treating him well. And for telling Dad not to tease me about him when I brought him home to meet him. You were in Florida at the time, and you didn’t want to scare away that Godly man. Thanks, Mom.

For demonstrating a love of reading. You always had a pile of books by your chair. You invested in a set of encyclopedias (which I read from A to Z), and the Norton Anthology of English Literature (which started me on the journey of a life-long love of literature). For encouraging us to go to the library. Thanks, Mom

For putting on a wonderful wedding. I know you must have been exhausted by the time it was done. For preparing both the rehearsal dinner and the reception dinner, along with women from our church. For decorating the wedding cake and the church. I helped, but you used your talents and skills to direct a wonderful wedding. Thanks, Mom.

For taking us to church and for choosing a church with sound doctrine, excellent teaching, and a good youth group. For praying for me, especially during the time when I struggled the most when I was away at college. Thanks, Mom.

For going to every parent-teacher’s conference, and every choir concert. For standing strong on the importance of education. Thanks, Mom.

For educating yourself about autism. For believing that it was a real and significant issue in our lives, because others did not. For bragging on our kids, for supporting them, for praying for them. Thanks, Mom.

For showing me that it’s never too late to start something new. At around 40, you took a painting class, and have been painting pictures, cards, for the last 40 years. Your paintings are hanging on my walls. Thanks, Mom.

For demonstrating love in action at your church in Florida, visiting the sick, preparing meals, buying gifts for orphans, singing in the choir. You once told me that you took your crocheting with you when visiting someone who was sick because it communicated that you weren’t in a hurry to leave.  Thanks, Mom.

For playing games with us when we were little. For staying home to care for us. For caring whether we succeeded in life or not. For insisting that we did our homework. For long telephone calls and encouragement as I established my own household with my husband and kids. For innumerable things that have influenced my life. Thanks, Mom.

I can never thank you enough. I love you.

Snowing Mercy

Just a short blog post today.

Michigan has been experiencing a brutal winter, for us. Several days of windchills at around -20, excessive snow (even for West Michigan), and an ice storm during Christmas week.

Last night my husband’s car had a flat tire on 28th street. The tire was ruined, the rim was wrecked. He managed to pull into a gas station off the road to change the tire. When he jacked up the car (a heavy old model Cadillac), the jack broke. A young man in truck saw what happened, got his jack out and helped my husband change the tire.

So many opportunities to sow mercy into the life of others during this severe weather.

• Check on your elderly neighbors
• Shovel or use your snowblower to help neighbors who would have a difficult time taking care of the job themselves.
• Shovel out the fire hydrants on your block
• Offer hot chocolate to your mail man or other people who work outside in this bitter cold
• Shovel out a bus stop. Yesterday, I saw several people standing on top of huge (6-8 feet) snow banks waiting for the bus.
• In Atlanta, I heard about Home Depot allowing people to sleep in their chairs.

Do you have any to add to the list? I would love to hear your stories

Tales from the Toe Tag Chaplain – Joseph Smith

I stayed up late reading last night. Too late.

The book that kept me from going to bed was Tales from the Toe Tag Chaplain by Joseph Smith.

For eight years Pastor Smith served as the chaplain for a 60-bed oncology floor in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

The stories demonstrate compassion, mercy, and common sense. Many of the tales are tragic, yet often miraculous at the same time. These stories are real. He doesn’t tie up all the loose ends, and sometimes leaves the reader hanging. But, given the restraints of the chaplaincy, this is normal – the way thing must be.

Pastor Smith does not shy away from difficult and sensitive subjects. He clearly states his strong beliefs. But his own views do not keep him from comforting those whose beliefs are different.

One of the goals of the book is to encourage others to consider being a chaplain. It presents a clear-eyed view of the realities and rewards involved in this kind of ministry, open to both men and women.

http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Toe-Chaplain-Joseph-Smith-ebook/dp/B00GVGFU9I/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388140576&sr=8-1&keywords=The+toe+tag+chaplain

Here is another review of the book giving more information about Pastor Joe Smith.

http://www.mlive.com/jenison/index.ssf/2013/11/inspirational_stories_of_dying.html