Next (Sparrows)

What happens next nobody knows. We can guess and speculate, but no one knows what's next with precision. Variables, chaos, life, death, love, war... what's next is truly anyone's guess. I, for one, have run out of guesses.

I am either too tired or too familiar with the process to venture another one. But I want to know. And soon, please.

My husband keeps reminding me, "Sparrows. He's got the sparrows." So in my head I say "SPARROWS," but in my yard are abandoned nests. So there's that. I'm just not sure how to reconcile that right now, nor do I have to. I just keep saying "SPARROWS" and praying that the babies will indeed hatch.

What am I, that He pays attention? That's basically the question in Psalms, and I love it. It feels a lot like "Why bother?," which is a question I wonder about God, about myself sometimes. The crazy thing is that, whatever the answer, He does bother.

He keeps bothering.

And that's just infuriating to me!

It would be much easier to think He doesn't care at all, that we're really left guessing and fumbling and trying to make sense of life, making speculations about what's next. But that isn't the case. He actually cares about us. He actually sees the fumbling and the free falls and says they're all gonna be swirled up into good somehow, some cosmic "Big Picture" milkshake. It all makes sense on some level, a sense that I may never experience. But "don't worry" He says. "SPARROWS!" I say in my head.

So what's next? I don't have the first clue. All I know is that He cares about the next AND the now, and somehow these nests are seen.

Sparrows. The whole bunch of us.