Welcome to Buoy, a Life in Deeper Water podcast.

Episode 41. Five Sparrows and My Dog (God loves, justly)

(click here to listen now)

Hello human.

I can’t think of one item I can buy for two pennies. Five sparrows seem like a good deal, yet Jesus uses this to tell His disciples that the value of what five sparrows is worth in our eyes, is not the value of God’s love for them. Or His love for us.

And it is His Will to compare a sparrow to each of us, that if God will take care of all those little birds, so common to Hebraic life, and to us now, He will take care of us.

Sparrows were a common creature in the doorways of the cities of Jesus’ homeland. His community of men, women, and children were used to see them—so many of them flying around, landing on familiar fences, scurrying through the brush, resting on a roof, a pot, a plant.  A windowsill.

Here’s what Jesus said:

Luke 12:6-7

6 Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. 7 Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

 

All this to compare the worth of this tiny little bird, to the worth of a human. That if He takes care of them in a way that gives them food, protection, rest, and companionship.  That for us, he will do so on a grander scale.

Landing in An Unexpected Place

A scale that meets the needs of my life in flight. For every time I am hungry, he finds food. For every time I need protection, he protects the important things.

For every time I land, he makes good on my view, my perspective. The solidarity of my positioning, my stance. Like a bird on the highest branch of a neighborhood tree.

For the time I landed in an unexpected, and what felt like, a very unprotected place. I have tried three times to prepare this episode… I can hardly get through it. But I have come this far. I feel a sense of relief on my horizon.

This is the story of Siena and Chianti, two soft-coated wheaten terriers. At the time we were living in Los Angeles. We drove three+ hours to get Siena in 2015, followed by a trip to the airport to pick up Chianti in 2018. Two amazing canines, so different in personality, yet carrying the familiarity of the wheaten breed in such delightful ways. They took corkscrew naps in the same way. They posed with their long, lanky forearms as if sisters. They had the same… what we call “bear paws.” Same gray highlights on the bottom of the ears and around the mouth. They did the same energetic jump to greet a human face. It is called the wheaten greetin’.

They loved each other for 2+ years, rousting throughout the house, patio, grass—in a feisty kind of way, puppy, and young dog banter—but it increasingly became more about alpha needs, human attention, and territory.

As the challenges escalated, we eventually spoke with a trainer, but for me, it was too much. If you have ever pulled two fighting dogs apart, which you are not ever advised to do, you know what I am talking about. I pulled them apart many times because I just couldn’t bear either of them getting hurt. I lived in the middle of loving them so deeply, yet so fearful of what might happen in the next moment.

When we decided the only choice was to rehome Chianti, the process was excruciating. For those who may not know, this means find her a new family. My husband handled the process of reviewing all of the people interested, and brought a few families for our review.

Chianti would be living with a family with two younger girls. She would be their canine sister to help them through tough days at school, broken hearts, and celebrations for well-deserved accomplishments. Our only stipulation was that this family not have any other dogs. They had lost a wheaten suddenly two years earlier and were just so grateful to have her.

A Little Bit About Five Sparrows

I want to stop here and talk a little bit about five sparrows and Luke 12: 6-7. I don’t know why actually. I just know that I learned more about the value of a sparrow in God’s eyes when we had to make the decision to re-home Chianti at the age of three. Chianti did special things with me. She would press her forehead directly on to mine, for however long I wanted her to. Not afraid to be very close. She was effortless in jumping onto the bed, like a deer clearing a fence. Deftly tucking into her space like a little fawn. Lean, light, just so lovely. She was proud and protective in City elevators. And on the streets. Ready to defend if that were needed. But just so sassy and a little bit rock-star.

So, the sparrow thing, I am just surprised by God’s calculation: that I am worth more than many sparrows. I don’t understand this. Isn’t everyone’s worthiness complete through His creation of each of us?  Why a hierarchy? While he gave Adam the animals and the earth for his use, and that in and of itself is a structure, why the need for comparison?

I want to say that it is because God has a divine plan, with a divine purpose that is not yet realized. My worth is more than many sparrows because he created me to do what sparrows cannot do. What sparrows weren’t created to do. He created me, and you, for companionship. He created a sparrow for our benefit, not His. (as He told Adam)

But what I am really thinking about is that the comparison is about deep, purposeful love. His, for us.

Here comes the hardest part.

Losing Her Meant Leaving Her

Losing Chianti took me deeper into the love God has for me. I thought I could cope with losing her because they were both so unhappy, trapped in the innateness of canine nature defined by hierarchy.

But I was not prepared for actually leaving her. I was not prepared for learning how much I loved her. When we left her at the park with her new family, I felt a desperate weight fall on me. I felt like I was suffocating. I couldn’t believe I was leaving her. I was nauseas. I felt like I had given someone my child. That she wouldn’t understand. That she would cry for us. For me. And for Siena. Even in the midst of challenging Siena for the alpha position.

We stopped at Costco on our way out. I sat with Siena, watching her beautiful amber eyes… knowing she did not yet know what was going on. When we started toward home, we had a flat tire. That seemed just, well, cruel. When we finally made our way up the driveway, the minute we let Siena out, she went looking for Chianti, expecting her to come bounding toward us on the side deck as she would do. Because it wasn’t that they weren’t a pack. They were.

For days I was full of panic, heartache—completely overwhelmed by sadness and the finality of leaving her. I felt like a failure, like I could have made the situation work out. I wanted to go get her. I wanted an update on her every hour, but heard nothing for three days. It was unbearable. Finally, I texted and received a couple of photos showing her on her new porch. In Pittsburg. So far away. I clicked on those photos a thousand times.

Our Heavenly Father Loves, Justly

It was in this moment, that the words of Jesus… about sparrows popped into my mind. Not to comfort me. But to reveal to me how our Heavenly Father loves all that He has created. He loves justly. That’s the comparison.

The only reason I can talk about this now is because I can press pause, and regain my composure. But you can’t do that in real time, can you? The heartache is real, and always a fresh reminder of how I want to love.

It’s like I have a little Chianti sparrow fluttering around in my heart.

There is one other mental construct (sorry but that’s how I think about it) that balances my aching heart on this, pretty much on a daily basis: my husband said in the midst of my pain, “we will always have the time we had with her, we will always love her.” This is when how the Greeks treat verbs is needed.  (look it up)

God is the Master of Revelation

There are a lot of people in this world who are not dog lovers. Dogs have much to teach about how to love, yet maybe it’s not a dog for you. I get that, but I am sure of this. God will show you how to go deeper in your love for others, by showing His love for you through others. It might be through a human, an animal, or something from His creation. Our God is the Master of revelation. He will teach you about His deeper love.

In the tragedy-laden trials of Job he declares:

Job 12:7-10 declares:

“But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.”

 

And to my sweet Chianti (pictured right), I hug Siena every day for you. I know you love her. And I love you.