He Watches Me

Her steps seem heavier today. The weight of the toils, pressures and expectations of daily life had not been relieved by the short night’s sleep. Oh, she had gotten into bed at a reasonable time. But tossing and turning and thinking of her responsibilities had left her unable to fall asleep for several hours. The unwelcome sound of the alarm clock had ended her attempt at a rejuvenating rest. How she longed for a day when the alarm would not awake her. Some day she would awake when her body was rested and ready to rise; it was not today. What would this day bring to add upon her load or show a little relief?

Her legs felt like lead weights, crushing desire and spirit under their heavy load. The thudding sound of their laggardly plodding was like that of the deafening stamping machinery constantly producing one piece after another.  No majestic symbolism, no artful synchronous movement, just the tired dull thud of worn and weary limbs. Maybe there had been springing joyful bounces in a springtime long ago, but it was absent now. It seemed to take almost herculean strength to lift each one. Yet the power to restrain it from falling hard did not seem to exist. Okay, maybe it was a little bit of an over exaggeration, still it was not a good way to start the day.

Although the joy of realizing she was awakening to a new and glorious day was in her heart, her body needed to get in sync. Each day of her life had held promises and fulfillments beyond her wildest expectations. Each sunrise had been greeted with the knowledge that there was coming a sunset and each sunset settled into the long dark night of anticipation for the rising of the new day.

On most of those many days, she had known either the agility of youth and confidence of mature strength. Occasionally, the infirmities of the flesh had promoted the insecurities of the mind. That tiny little imaginary person cowering in fear of what might happen seemed to grow rapidly. The presence of doubt and worry desired to overcome the upward looking soul and surrender to despair.

But joy comes in the morning. Hope springs eternal. Every sunrise is a new day. Even this heavy handed painful start of this day had the promise of possibilities beyond what could be seen with mortal eyes. The traffic light would turn green and she would find herself caught up in the moment of tapping her  thumb on the steering wheel to some popular tune while daydreaming about the simpler times. There would be time enough for worry fear and doubt in some other moment, but not this one.

It would either be gentle or harsh but the heat of the sun’s rays would come. The light would shine. The breeze would blow as softly as it chose. The clouds would appear menacing or lofty. So that even the pain of weariness and the agony of overexertion would know the expectation of relief. This too shall pass. As the challenge came, so would the escape.

The tides would roll in and the moon would pull them away again. Cause and effect continue their never ceasing ritual of being the catalysts for life to be declared. Every choice has its consequence and every consequence its opportunity and every opportunity its reward. Each day begins, with or without pain it begins. Seconds tick, minutes march on and hours hold sway over the choices of the day. Yet in the court of perception the day stands prepared to answer for itself. Judgments come swiftly, distractions multiply and performance is assessed. Joy lifts, sorrow drags, pain shackles and hope is beyond measure.

The song quotes the Scriptures saying “His eye is on the sparrow”. Its view is of the gray drab drudgery and finds solace in the light from above. The question is “Why should I feel discouraged; Why should the sorrows come?” The answer is that the constant friend who is the undeserved portion of benefit granted to us is worth any adversity.

His eye beholds our circumstances and counts them of far greater importance than the small sparrow He cares so dearly for. “And resting in His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears”. He offers to trade His light burdens for our heavy ones. When we abide under the shadow of His wings, all our fears flee, all our doubts are replaced with His promises. The final stanza in its entirety confides:

Often we find ourselves tempted to fall under the weight of the inglorious to the point of dying hope and darkening clouds. There is a bright sun above the clouds. There is a bright Son beyond our despair and dying hope. It is then we need to draw near to where we find His care for us greater than any bondage of sadness or disappointment. We scan the skies for the sparrow He loves with endless measure and we know “He watches me”.

Her step seems livelier then. The shoulder sag is lifted. She will sleep better. The load is lifted, replaced with majestic joy for He watches me.