You Are Worth More Than Many Sparrows (Matt. 10:31)

I struggle with anxiety and depression.  For the most part I've managed it, but it's become increasingly difficult in the past year.  I've felt locked in my head, besieged with feelings of fear, shame, and sorrow.  (I posted about this on another blog I have.  I plan to re-share that post here in a few days.)

There's a feeling of worthlessness that comes along with anxiety and depression.  I don't have an explanation for it, but you believe that your value as a human being is much less than everyone else's.  Rationally you know this isn't true, but that doesn't change the way you feel.  

When I felt God prompting me to start this site, I thought: No way.  I am the wrong person for this. 

If you know anything about God, you know that your opinion of yourself rarely matches His opinion of you.  He ignored my fears and kept nudging.  

Sometimes my views about the American Church are at odds with established views.  I think we've become too comfortable in our "christianity".  I think we've forgotten that true Christianity embraces the ugly.  The messy.  It involves getting our hands dirty as daily we pick up our crosses and follow Him.  It's not about binging on Netflix in our airconditioned homes as we toss out "thoughts and prayers" on Facebook.  It's not about shouting our political views at our neighbors.  It's about coming alongside the widow, cooking and cleaning for them when they can't muster the strength to get out of bed.  It's about babysitting so that the mom who's overwhelmed with the demands of childcare can rest.  It's about feeding the hungry and comforting the mourners.  

True Christianity isn't comfortable.  It isn't safe.  It's about actions not words. 

  

And that's exactly why I had to create this site.  I'm uncomfortable talking about my past.  I'm filled with shame over the things that happened to me.  I don't like admitting that I feel small and weak.  That most days I'm overwhelmed with anxiety and depression.  Just leaving the house is an ordeal, much less pouring out my soul for all to see.  

I feel so small.

Like a sparrow.  A dull, brown, unimportant little bird.  

In Matthew 10, Jesus sends the apostles out to spread the Gospel.  He tells them to work: "Heal the sick, raise the dead, cure those with leprosy, drive out demons."  (Matt. 10:8)  He tells them to have faith, go emptyhanded: "Don't take any money in your money belts--no gold, silver, or even copper coins.  Don't carry a traveler's bag with a change of clothes and sandals or even a walking stick."  (Matt. 10:9-10)  He tells them they will be persecuted: "For you will be handed over to the courts and will be flogged with whips in the synagogues.  You will stand trial before governors and kings because you are my followers.  But this will be your opportunity to tell the rulers and other unbelievers about me." (Matt. 10:17-18)

Messy, isn't it?  The opportunity for sharing the Gospel comes not in the moments of glory: healing the sick, raising the dead.  No.  It comes during the darkest hour.  With pain.  With persecution.  After being whipped and arrested.  

But look how Jesus ends things: with an admonition to not be afraid.  "Don't be afraid of those who want to kill your body: they cannot touch your soul.  Fear only God, who can destroy both soul and body in hell.  What is the price of two sparrows--one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it.  And the very hairs on your head are all numbered.  So don't be afraid; your are worth more than many sparrows." (Matt. 10:28-31)

God loves the sparrows, the smallest of birds.  He watches over them.  He knows the number of their days.  Yet the very hairs on my head are numbered?  I am worth more than many sparrows?  

Again, logically I know this.  But my heart...my heart is a different story.  My heart doubts.  My heart is afraid.  

So I look back over the verses of Matthew 10.  Jesus tells the apostles not to fear at the very time when logic dictates they should be the most fearful--after being arrested and whipped.  He says, "Don't be afraid.  I watch over the sparrows.  One doesn't die without my knowledge.  But I love you so much that each hair on your head is precious.  Do not be afraid of anything--even death.  You are worth more to me than many sparrows."  

True Christianity is hard.  It's messy and sometimes deadly.  Yet we're not to shy away from the hard times, because it's often during those difficult, horrible times that people see God the most clearly in our lives.  

I'm not in jail.  I haven't been whipped.  But pouring out my heart is difficult.  It's messy and scary.  So I repeat Jesus's words: "Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows" (Matt. 10:31) and I write.