Considering The Sparrows

Considering the Sparrows

My eyes aren’t working so well. For months I’ve struggled to read small print with my contact lenses in. I used to laugh with my non-lens-wearing friends who were already awkwardly adjusting to the distance between their eyes and menus or instruction manuals, smugly thinking myself impervious to the little indignities of age. Let the record show I am not immune to Father Time.

Thankfully, my optometrist offered a suggestion that spares me reading glasses or bifocal lenses, and so far it is working well. Using monovision (strengthening one contact lens and weakening the other), I am learning to adjust as my eyes compensate for each other, calling dominance over the visual task at hand the way a second baseman and a center fielder might negotiate a midrange pop fly. (“Got it! Mine!”)

Somehow, without my brain engaging, my eyes do their work and focus appropriately. If only my heart would learn to do the same.

Lately, I’ve been focusing on what isn’t. What I don’t have that others do. What isn’t in my portfolio or my living room or my name. Who isn’t in my corner or by my side. My perception is distorted. I am not easily discerning the fine print. I no longer recognize beauty or abundance up close—only at a distance. I’m not sure when this happened, just as I’m not sure exactly when my eyes could no longer manage small fonts well. One day I just knew.

Instead of considering the sparrows or lilies, I started focusing like a laser on my own lack. Instead of looking with gratefulness at the past and learning from it, I was gazing at the future with fear.

“Look at the birds,” Jesus said. Really look. Focus, see, and consider. “See how the wildflowers grow,” he instructed. They’re not so different from you. They’re small and transient, but deeply valued and exquisitely made. They haven’t manufactured a thing, yet they always seem to have enough. Do you see them? I do. My eyes are adjusting to the reality of the season. I’m struggling less and considering the sparrows more. And it’s about time.

Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are?

Matthew 6:26