His eye is on the sparrow..and Ella

The rain continues to pelt the farm.

We slosh and slog and brave the muddy farm road to go buy another umbrella and I scratch the itch to complain.

Simultaneously, ironically, the fires continue to devour my thirsty Texas town. Fatigued firefighters and neighbors labor shoulder to shoulder; fighting for their parched, precious homes and land.

What they would all give for the clouds to well up, fat and black, and spill over the hills.

Ben Godkin Photography

My throat feels raw, and I am a thousand miles away, not even breathing the ashy air.

Outside my kitchen window, a sparrow clings to a whipping branch in a driving downpour.  How can such a small creature withstand nature's deluge?  I realize now that the sparrow is singing.  Singing!

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On Treehaven Lane, Ella and her family cling to the Tree of Life.  How can mere mortals withstand such unrelenting fury on body, mind and spirit?  It is too much fire and floodwaters for any saint.

Faux-Toes Spitting Images (Without the Mess) (Kristin Roedner)

My hope in this raging storm is that He who cares for my sparrow cares infinitely more for Ella.

This creator and sustainer of all life came to save, not condemn.

His purpose is to heal ravaged bodies and raped lands in this life and the next.  

He does not seek to destroy, but to set wrongs right and make all things new.

He doesn't wish to make peace with death, he intends to destroy it.

Of this we can sing while we cling to this precious gift we call life.