One of the things I love most about going out of town is trading in my familiar running routes for new ones. And while the path I chose to run yesterday morning in Columbia, MO wasn’t technically "new"—as I serve as the Race Director for the Show-Me State Games triathlon/duathlon every July—it was still out of the ordinary. Because of this, I paid extra special attention to the sites and sounds around me.
Which is the very reason that I heard the noise of a large symphony of birds nestled within the limbs and leaves of a small tree as I passed by before the sun fully came up. Their song was so loud and joyful that I instinctively knew they were praising the Creator. I don’t know how many there were but I knew there had to be a great number of them based on the volume of their praises.
As I stopped to take in the scene, I looked down to see a dead sparrow lying on the ground. “Awwww, poor thing,” I thought to myself. And then I smiled, knowing that even the death of this tiny, seemingly insignificant bird did not happen outside of the "Father’s will."
Speaking of insignificance, have you ever stopped to consider that there are approximately 1.6 billion sparrows worldwide (Globally, there are at least 141 recognized species in the sparrow family, meaning the total number of all sparrow species combined is significantly higher) and yet the Lord knows the status of each and every one of them? So much so that not even one of them falls to the ground without God knowing it.
This not only shows the enormity of God the Creator, but the compassion of God the Father.
This was a fact that was driven home later in the morning before the start of the triathlon/duathlon, upon which I repeatedly issued the instruction to the registering participants to be sure that both arms or both calves were marked with their bib number so they could be identified. This was important since the typical race bib runners wear can not be worn in the water or on the bike. As each one of them came into the transition areas or
across the finish line or, I announced their positions by their numbers rather than their names.
By the middle of the morning, I found myself thinking about how grateful I was that I wasn't "just a number" to God. None of the people out on the course were either. I may not have known their names but God did.
Happy Running!