I sing because I'm happy; I sing because I'm free;
For His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.
The soprano’s voice soars above the swell of the orchestra, her eyes caught up to heaven. Every heart in the concert hall leans forward, drawn by an ache, a longing.
Why do such moments move us so deeply—in seasons of faith, or in our midnight struggles? Why does our hope cling more tightly to the lyrics of an old hymn than to a hundred bright and restless tunes?
Because we bear reminding—every day—that the God who flung the stars in their courses still sees us; still chooses to see us—in all our tired, ordinary uniqueness. In heaven’s chosen language, there is no “same as that” or “same as them.” Even our unvoiced whispers are heard, fully understood, gently answered.
This is the grace that watches over us, that’s never weary, never indifferent. Jesus made it very clear: “Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to Him than they are?” (Matt 6:26).
Grace sees our tears, knows our stress, and comforts our distresses. And grace gives us a song that carries us through every hour to come.
Hope is your sign of grace.
So stay in it.
—Bill Knott