More Than A Sparrow

I think I got scolded by God today. 

Scolded is probably a bad word. 

I don't know what to call it. 

Lately, I've had two verses from Matthew stuck in my head. 

Matthew 6:25 and Matthew 10:26 - both which deal with birds and sparrows and God providing for us so long as we are His children. 

I've been contemplating what to do with myself lately since once again, I was turned down for a teaching job. Moreover, I've been reconsidering my stance on my vocation, whether I'm really called to marriage or not. (More on this in a different entry).

I've had a particularly trying week with friends and awkward acquaintances and people who have beef with me for no good reason. Let's just say there's been serious drama every night. 

So I went to adoration today to be quiet, to clear my head, to get some direction, and to just tell Jesus I needed help. And all I've been praying for lately is for a particular boy to come back and for us to be friends again. I've been praying for a full time job, so I can afford insurance and a reliable car.  I prayed for direction on how to handle the crazy amount of drama in my life lately.

But as I was sitting there praying for all these things, I felt that still, small voice.  Often times, when I hear God, it's never a burning bush or loud booming thunder. It's always still and quiet, and if I'm not actively listening, I miss it. 

It said, "Am I not enough? Look at the sparrows. I care for each and every one of them. They do not worry for food or shelter. How much more do I love you than a sparrow."

And to each of my petitions, it seemed that was the answer. 

I'm lonely.

But I am God. Is that not enough? Is my love and company not enough?

I'm worried about paying for my apartment. 

But I am God. Is that not enough? If I care for a sparrow, I will surely care for you.

I'm worried about how I'm going to afford to eat because I'm not being paid for two months.

But I am God. Is that not enough? The sparrows don't reap or sow, but I feed them.

And on the walk back home, I felt my heart sink a little bit.  How ungrateful of a child I must have seemed. I've been given everything I could possibly ask for and more, and yet, here I am still tugging at my Father's pants leg asking for even more. 

He takes care of the sparrows. 

He takes care of me. 

He is God.

And that is enough.