Louie Giglio - The Sparrow's Song
Today, we’re shifting into a new collection of talks called «Certainty.» Can you say that word with me? Certainty. I would imagine I have said the word «uncertainty» hundreds of times in the last few months. We’re in uncertain times; we’re in a season of global uncertainty. I got to where I didn’t ever want to say the word that starts with «pan» and ends with «demic» again, and I decided I’m boycotting that word. So I started using the phrase «global uncertainty.» We are in a season of global uncertainty, and some of you are in a season of local uncertainty. You’re not concerned about what’s happening on the pandemic side of things; you’re concerned about the fact that your spouse just walked out on you. You’re concerned about something more localized to your life that is far more threatening to you than something happening around the globe that you can’t see or touch.
What I want us to do for a few weeks in this season of uncertainty is to take the «un» out of uncertainty and think about the things that we are certain of because it is focusing on the things God has said we can count on and bank on in our lives that will give us confidence in the chaos right now. Some things are uncertain, but a lot of things in the Kingdom of God are for sure. Today, we’re going to start a journey in a collection of messages talking about things that are certain, and today, I want you to know that it is a certainty that God sees you. I want you to be able to walk out of this gathering today, not only to say the words but to believe and embody the reality that God Almighty sees me.
You may be in a season like the psalmist who wrote Psalm 102, and you may need to hear that not only does God see you, but He cares about you, and not only does He care about you, but God is near. That’s hard if you’re in a season like the psalmist when he penned these words beginning in verse 1: «Hear my prayer, O Lord; let my cry for help come to you. Do not hide your face from me when I am in distress; turn your ear to me when I call; answer me quickly. For my days vanish like smoke; my bones burn like glowing embers; my heart is blighted and withered like grass; I forget to eat my food.» Now, this message is for everybody today; it will encourage each of us, but it has somebody’s name on it. You’re in that season where you forgot to eat. It wasn’t that you forgot to eat; you’re just so perplexed and under duress that eating was the last thing on your mind.
Have you ever been in that place where your life is under such pressure that normal things like eating aren’t even on your radar? That’s what the psalmist is describing. He goes on to say, «Because of my loud groaning, I am reduced to skin and bones; I’m like a desert owl, like an owl among the ruins. I lie awake and have become like a bird alone on a roof. All day long, my enemies taunt me; those who rail against me use my name as a curse. For I eat ashes as my food and mingle my drink with tears because of your great wrath. For you have taken me up and thrown me aside; my days are like the evening shadow; I wither away like grass.»
Have you ever been in a moment like that? The phrase I want to bring us to in this text is verse 7: «I lie awake; I have become like a bird alone on a roof.» Now, I’m reading the NIV, so the word is translated «bird,» but this word used here could mean bird, fowl, or sparrow. In fact, if you’re reading the ESV, you might see «sparrow» in the text, and in the King James or New King James, you’ll also see «sparrow.» The New American Standard Version will say, «like a sparrow alone on the roof.» This word is used 40 times in the Bible, referring to an ordinary bird.
This isn’t the most sophisticated, glorious, beautiful bird of all time; it’s more of the average bird that lives in the garden of a home or in the eaves of a building or resides in a nearby tree. It’s just your average thrush, normally living with a bunch of friends in a group, and now here the bird is alone on the roof. That’s why some commentators say we need to use the word translated as «bird» and not «sparrow» because a sparrow would always be in a group and never alone. But others say «sparrow» is fine for this text because, in this case, like what the psalmist was feeling, the sparrow is isolated and alone.
Maybe the sparrow has lost its mate or lost its way. Now the bird, which is typically in the company of many, feels completely isolated and alone. It’s in that place many of us find ourselves in—local uncertainty or global uncertainty—where we feel like a sparrow alone on a roof. It’s like what Hagar felt in Genesis 16. Do you remember the story? God had promised Abraham he would be the father of a multitude, but he and Sarah could not conceive. As the text unfolds in Genesis chapter 1, Sarah feels the brunt of this situation because she is the part of the equation that isn’t able to fulfill God’s promise.
So, Sarah devises a plan. In her thinking, she realizes that God promised Abraham, but she can’t see how that promise will be fulfilled. The timeline seems impractical and impossible to her, given that they can’t conceive and are both advanced in age. Sarah takes the wheel, forces the issue, and takes matters into her own hands. She says, «I have a maidservant from Egypt, and I will allow my maidservant to be with Abraham.» Then she says, «Perhaps through her, I can build a family.» God had a way, but God’s way didn’t make sense to the human mind, so Sarah devised a human plan to fulfill what God had promised. Abraham agreed, and he was with the servant, and Hagar became pregnant. As she did, her relationship with Sarah became very contentious.
It became so contentious that Sarah began to mistreat Hagar to the degree that Hagar fled from Sarah and ended up out in the wilderness. We can pick up the story in Genesis 16 and see how this all plays out. If you have your scripture, turn there with me. It says down in verse 7, «The angel of the Lord found Hagar near a spring in the desert; it was the spring that is beside the road to Shur. He said, 'Hagar, servant of Sarah, where have you come from, and where are you going? '» Isn’t that how you feel when you feel like a sparrow alone on a roof? You don’t know where you came from or where you are going. You don’t know how you got here or how you’ll get out of here. Suddenly, life feels like it got hijacked.
Maybe it was the decisions of people saying God made a promise, but we forced the hand, and now I feel like my life has been hijacked by somebody else’s decisions. I’ve been mistreated, or I’m on the run, overlooked, off the radar of heaven. But even out in the wilderness, the angel of the Lord appears and says, «Go back to your mistress and submit to her.» The angel added, «I will so increase your descendants that they will be too numerous to count.» Then the angel said to her, «You are now with child and you will have a son.»
When she heard the word «son,» this was like a blessing. In this culture and at this moment in time, this was great news. Not only will I have a child, but the child will be a son, and he will lead many descendants. The Lord is telling me, and then she says, «You shall name him Ishmael, for the Lord has heard of your misery.» Ishmael, the name, translates to «the Lord hears.» So yes, you’re in a situation that seems like your entire life has gone off the rails, but a couple of things are going on here that you need to know аbout:
Number one, I know where you are in the wilderness. Number two, I sent an angel to you. He was not on a search and discovery mission; He knew precisely where you were. When He found you, He had a word for you: «You’re going to have a son,» and He already had a name for your son—"Ishmael,» which means «the Lord of Heaven has heard you.» Your distress or situation of misery has been heard by the Lord. The next verse says there will be some contention; the son you’re going to have will be troubled and live in hostility with his brothers. But nonetheless, there’s a promise for you, and God is in the equation for you.
We know that Ishmael and Isaac had divergent paths, and there’s still tension resulting from the decisions made by man to try to work their way to fulfill God’s purposes and promises. But look at verse 13. «She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: 'You are the God who sees me.'» For she said, «I have now seen the one who sees me.» A couple of unusual things happen here. Number one, God always reveals His names to man; no man or woman has ever announced the name of God, except in this case. Hagar announces, «You are the God who sees me.» In Hebrew, «You are El Roi,» not just the God who sees, but more than that, «You’re the God who sees me.»
«Who am I? I’m just a servant girl. I got written into a story of someone trying to trump God’s promise and plan. I got mistreated. I was on the run. I’m in the wilderness, and nobody knows where I am. I’m pregnant and don’t even have a nest to build my home in. But God Almighty has come to me.» God sees me; El Roi is the God who sees me, and I have seen the God who sees me. Do you know where He found her? I love little things like this in the text. You can’t make a big proof case out of them, but she was near a spring in the desert, beside the road to Shur, to certainty.
She was by a certain road, and wherever you are today, whatever situation you find yourself in, there is great news for you: your misery has reached the heart and ears of Almighty God, and His eyes are on you. It may be because of a situation like hers, where you feel mistreated or overlooked, or it may be that you’re just off in the distance due to your own choices, but God still sees you.
When we were little, we were terrible at hiding. Do you remember this? Or have you been around little ones lately? You’re going to play hide and seek, and a four-year-old would hide behind something, thinking you can’t see them, smiling while they do it. You’d have to pretend you couldn’t find them. You’d say, «I don’t know… Maybe she’s in the kitchen? Oh, not in the kitchen. Maybe she’s under the dining room table? Oh, I don’t know… Maybe she went outside.» Eventually, the kid would say, «I’m over here!»
When we’re little, we’re terrible at hiding because we only want to be found. But as we get older and set in our ways, we become extraordinarily proficient at camouflaging ourselves. Somebody today, you’re not like a sparrow alone on the roof because your life got hijacked. You’re like a sparrow alone on a roof because you hijacked God’s plan for your life. You think you’re far off in the distance like Adam and Eve.
What were they thinking? They bought a lie that something was better than God. As soon as they sinned, they were aware of their shame, so when God came walking in the garden, they jumped into the bushes as if the God who spoke the cosmos into existence wouldn’t know they were there. He said, «Adam, where are you?» Why? Because He didn’t know? No, He was saying, «How ridiculous is this?»
Think about that story of the son who went away and threw his life into a pigpen. It says when he was still a long way off, his father saw him because God’s name is El Roi—the God who sees me. I don’t know where you are or how much you feel like a sparrow alone on a roof, but the song of the sparrow—that’s the title of this message—is that God sees me. The sparrow’s song is that God sees me.
Not only does God see you, there’s more. He cares about you. Jesus spoke about these little birds in Matthew’s Gospel. In places where we know and others where we’re somewhat familiar, He presents a beautiful picture of our value to Him through these seemingly insignificant, ordinary birds. In Matthew 6:25, He says, «Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or your body, what you will wear. Is life not more important than food and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?»
Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Now drop down to verse 33: «But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.» In the time of Jesus, the sparrow was called the little bite or little morsel because you could buy a bunch of them cheaply. You could pluck all the feathers off and skin them, then grill the remaining meat, which would only be a bite at that point, on an open fire. You could buy it in the market; it was called a little bite. Would you like a little bite? Yes, I’ll have two or three or four; I’ve got a couple of pennies in my pocket.
And what Jesus is saying is that the little bites, the little morsels—God feeds them. The little bites are fed; God is aware of them. Then He amplifies this in chapter 10. He says in verse 29, «Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. Even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.» So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.
What God is saying to somebody today is simply this: «Look, the sparrows, the little bites, the little morsels, I feed them. Every sparrow that drops to the ground, I know about it. It’s on My radar. It’s in My grand plan. But they are not made in the image of God; they do not have God’s Spirit stamped into their nature. They are not created to be in a relationship with Almighty God; they weren’t pursued and bought by the precious blood of Jesus.
They are not the objects of divine affection to such a degree that He would pay a price to forgive them of their sin so they could be in a relationship with Almighty God. They weren’t called to walk and talk with God Almighty, but you were. You were designed by Me, in My image; you were pursued by Me, for My glory. You were paid for and bought and forgiven and brought back from the dead to everlasting life so that you could be in a relationship with me.
I know when the little bites hit the ground, you don’t think I care about you. I know when the little morsels die, you don’t think I’m aware of every single detail in your story. I’m telling you today, God is not just interested in the big things; He is interested in every little bit of your story. Nothing is too small for God to be concerned about in your life today. The sparrow’s song is that God sees me. The sparrow’s song is God cares about me.
And more than that, the sparrow’s song invites us to be near God. I love Psalm 84, this powerful psalm about being with God. It opens with, „How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord.“ Then verse 10—a verse we all know well—"Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.» Then, we get our value of serving at Passion from this next phrase: «I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.»
The psalmist is saying one day in God’s house is better than a thousand in any other house on planet Earth. God’s house is where you want to be. Then he gives us this beautiful little invitation in verse 3: «Even the sparrow has found a home and the swallow a nest for herself where she may have her young, a place near your altar, O Lord Almighty, my King, and my God.»
We’re talking about the altar of God, talking about the Holy of Holies, talking about a King who is Almighty. He says even the little ordinary thrush can come and find a home and build a nest and raise her young right near my altar. Hagar, I see you by the road called Shur. You will bear a son, and his name will be God hears.
Do you know that the enemy’s lie is that, because of your circumstance, a) obviously God doesn’t see you because of your situation, b) undoubtedly God doesn’t care, and c) why pursue God when everything in your life is a mess? Those lies launch us into a thousand other lies, and God wants to bring you back to the truth today. Yes, circumstances are difficult; the situation is rough, but I see you, and let that be powerful to you today.
Not only do I see you, but I care too. When you cried, I cried. When you hurt, I heard. When you felt abandoned, I felt it all with you and was in it with you the whole time, and what I wanted you to see was that I have not left you; I am actually near you. In this moment, I want you to know there’s an invitation for you to be near God and to know that God is near to you.
The song of the sparrow is that God sees me. Can you start that new narrative today? The song of the sparrow is that God cares about me. Can you begin that new story for your own life today? The song of the sparrow is that God is near. See, we are writing our own narrative, and I know at times there are circumstances outside of our control. There is uncertainty we can’t solve; there are situations we can’t rectify between now and tomorrow.
But we have the power to describe the story of our lives and to say yes, this is true, this is real. What can you say? But here’s my story: El Roi sees me, and I see the God who sees me, and there’s something going on in the powerful connection of me seeing a God who has His eyes on me. And I’ll tell you something else: I know it doesn’t look like it, but God cares about every single little detail of what I’m walking through right now.
More than that, He is near. I love the way the psalmist said it; just one more psalm, just ascending a little bit to Psalm 73. In the NIV, what I’m reading says in verse 25: «Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you.» This is the beauty of where we go when we start out feeling like a sparrow alone on the roof. Eventually, we realize that nothing on earth has anything better for me than God.
Sometimes it takes us getting in a wilderness by a road on the way to Shur to realize what’s really certain in life: what you can count on, what’s dependable, what won’t change in life is that God sees me, cares about me, and that He is with me. He is near, and I’m telling you, I’m learning in a season like this that everything else that was near didn’t matter as much as I thought. That’s what the psalmist is getting at.
He says, «My heart and my flesh may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Those who are far from you will perish; you destroy all who are unfaithful to you. But as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the sovereign Lord my refuge; I will tell of all your deeds.»
I grew up in one of the most formative parts of my faith, reading out of the New American Standard Bible, so a lot of these texts are down in the marrow of my spiritual bones. As I was working on this talk, I kept saying, «The nearness of God is my good.» I was excited when I got to the passage and forgot I was in NIV, which says, «But as for me, it is good to be near God.»
I thought, «No! I wanted to say, 'The nearness of God is my good! '» So if you have a New American Standard Bible, good for you; keep reading it. If not, you might want to transpose it: «The nearness of God is my good.» Yes, a solution is going to be great; yes, a breakthrough is what I need; yes, I’m praying for something to be rectified; yes, I want something to be made right. All those things are important; I want to be back in the land of the living. I do want to be reunited; I do want to see God bring something from the ashes.
But here’s the thing: the nearness of God is my good. So wherever I am on that journey, wherever I am in that process, wherever I am on that road, the nearness of God is my good. Praise God I got the sparrow’s song: God sees me, God cares about me, and God is near to me. Can we say that today? Can we believe that today?
You might think, «Well, I don’t feel like God’s here.» Hey, God isn’t a feeling. «Well, if God was here, why would I be in this hospital room?» Well, maybe because of a disease or because of an accident or a slip. But God is there. Almighty God is there. «I know, but if He’s here, then why wouldn’t He just heal me?» I don’t know, because if He were to blink and extinguish all the consequences of sin, then we’d be out of this planet right now.
I don’t know how the sovereign timeline is working, but I know the sovereign God is near you, and I know that the nearness of God is the best thing on earth. The nearness of God is my good. Yes, my situation blew up everything, but the nearness of God is my good, and I’m going to sing the sparrow’s song. I’m going to believe what God says is true about me.
You know, in doing that, things shift. Not everything changes, but things shift. For one, you’ll be able to confess and believe that you’re not stuck in someone else’s story; you are still in God’s sight. Here’s the shift: «Here’s our deal, here’s what happened, here’s how it all worked out, here’s why I’m stuck here, here’s why this is all this way» versus, «You know what? I’m not just simply stuck in somebody’s story; I’m going to focus more on the fact that I’m still in God’s sight.»
To be more specific—and hopefully, I’m not being too specific—the CARES Act was helpful for many, but the God Cares Act is certain for everyone. Worry—the choking force—links with so many of our lives. Worry wastes the wonder of knowing that you’re in the Almighty’s sight. Let me say that again: worry wastes the wonder of knowing that you are in the Almighty’s sight.
You know how a little kid starts thinking they’re spreading their wings? They may start walking away from their parents, but what are they doing? They’re always checking back. «Can they still see me? Can they still see me? Can they still see me?» At some point in life, we’re thinking, «I’m going to go down this way real quick, and they’re not going to see me.» But for a long time, we’re preoccupied with, «Can they still see me? Can they still see me? Okay, I’m over here, I’m walking on the wall. Okay, I’m on the ledge, but Dad can see me. Things are good.»
As long as you know your heavenly Father can see you, why are you worrying? If the Almighty God can see you, what worry does is it wastes the wonder of knowing that we are in the sight of Almighty God. Lastly, here are a few little practical ways this interweaves itself into today’s confidence. We all want more confidence; we need more confidence.
It’s chaos, so where do we get confidence? Everything seems uncertain. Where do we get confidence? Everything seems to have gone off the rails. Confidence springs from the conscious decision—I want to underscore that it’s your decision. This is one of those places for me; I can’t offload this to somebody else. I can’t say, «Well, because of them, I didn’t experience this,» or «Because of that person, I didn’t experience this.»
No, this is my decision; this is your decision. It is a conscious decision to recognize and acknowledge that God is with you. You’re like, «What are you talking about?» I’m talking about when you feel like a sparrow alone on the roof, allowing that lie—God doesn’t see; God doesn’t care; God isn’t there—to catapult you into a whole other orbit of lies. You make a conscious decision and say, «You know what? God Almighty is here.»
Right now, I’m just going to confess that I am recognizing and acknowledging that my God is here. You might say, «Louie, that sounds like crazy talk.» That’s called atmospheric-altering confessions, where you just say, «I’m going to make a conscious decision; I’m going to pause and close my eyes and remember that not only is God in me, God is with me.
He is Emmanuel, God with us, but He is also incarnate Christ in me. The Spirit of the living God lives in me through the life of Christ. God is not only with me; He is in me. The Almighty is not only beside me; He goes before me. He goes behind me; He is on my right, He is on my left, He is above me, He is beneath me, and He lives in my heart.
I need to make a conscious decision right now to change my narrative. Almighty God is here. You might say, „I’m in a bind.“ I know, but Almighty God is here. You might say, „But this is a dead end.“ I know, but Almighty God is here. Where there is no way, Yahweh will make a way. This isn’t the end because the Almighty is here. Don’t pity me; the Almighty is here. „Oh, I’m so sorry for you.“ Don’t be sorry for me; the Almighty is here.
You can feel sorry for my circumstance and situation because it’s a mess, but don’t pity me; the Almighty is here. I’m building a nest right near His altar where I can have a family, raise my young, and create a future and destiny not only for me but for those God has entrusted to me. Don’t feel sorry for me because Almighty God is with me.
Yes, comfort me because my heart is broken, but don’t feel sorry for me, and please don’t pity me because the Almighty is here. He is the God of all comfort, and He’s here. He is the great provider, and He’s here. He is the waymaker and sea parter, and He is here. He is before all things, and He’s here. He is the one who brings beauty from ashes, and He’s here.
I don’t need anyone to tell me that. I’m going to tell myself that. I’m making a conscious decision to recognize and acknowledge that God is near. I’m going to sing the song of the sparrow. I might look like an ordinary thrush, but I’ve got a song: God sees me, God cares about me, and God is near to me.
I don’t know who God’s mailing this to today, but you do. I imagined, as I prayed about this, that right around the midway point of this talk, tears started streaming down someone’s face in the same way they would have streamed down Hagar’s face the moment an angel found her in the middle of nowhere. I just want you to know today, whether you’re sitting in 5:15, whether you’re right here in Cumberland, whether you’re in a little den or study or sitting at the counter in your kitchen, the angel of the Lord knows where you are, and He has a message for you today. Your heart’s plight has reached heaven; your concern concerns God, and He’s here.