God Sent a Sparrow
For weeks, the birds were silent. No chirps in the bushes, no wings overhead. I missed them — not just their songs, but the way they reminded me of my granny, of simpler days, of God’s nearness in nature. I prayed. Not a grand prayer, just a quiet request: Lord, bring back my bird friends. And then one came. Just one. A little visitor perched on the rail outside my window, turning his head as if to say hello. He didn’t stay long, but he returned. He chirped. He listened. He flew to the feeder. And in that moment, I knew — God had heard me. It wasn’t a flock. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was enough. A single bird, sent in love, to remind me that I’m seen. That even in loss or loneliness, God fills the silence with something living. Something gentle. Something that feels like home. Maybe Granny picked that bird. Maybe God whispered, She needs a reminder today. Either way, I cherish it. Because it’s the simple things — the ones that feel sma...