The sparrow doesn't long to be something else, an otter or an elephant. It goes about it's life content as a bird, doing bird-ly things, with contentment.
It feels like an over used metaphor, but today it took on new significance for me.
As I watered my newest plant (a purple maple-leaf hanging plant), I watched the water drain through the holes in the bottom and hit the cement below. I so thoroughly enjoy this plant. It represents healing and growth, and was given to celebrate a personal success in my life not so long ago. I take joy in the new green little leaves that sprout. And, even more, I love watching the leaves spring back to life before my eyes after I've watered it thoroughly.
I realized, my plant doesn't long to do or be something other than it is. And I don't expect it to. I don't say, "Plant, you take up too much water. Go get a job!" or "Plant, you drink so much and produce no fruit. What's wrong with you?" No. I enjoy my plant for what it is. I chose it as my gift. I wanted it. I enjoy it. I selected it without expectation for self-benefit other than enjoying what it simply offers: itself.
Some days I feel like I use too much water and don't bear enough fruit to be worth the liquid currency. But Someone thought I was worth it anyway. Someone thought I was enough, as is. And Someone promised to take care of me as if I was like that virtually helpless little bird, or hanging plant.
What if I enjoyed the Other's enjoyment? What if I let it soothe my soul into this sabbath rest? What provision might I find along the way?