Five Sparrows

By Bonnie Noble

1998:  Joan's life shatters and her life of faith careens towards darkness and oblivion.

2017:  Joan, repaired and renewed by God in the decades that follow the catastrophe, finds herself on an unexpected journey that will test her faith and shake her world yet again.

When God prompts Joan to retire from the work that has helped to keep her grounded all these years, she is faced with a future that is a blank slate. Trusting God for direction, Joan steps into a new ministry that threatens to shatter the peace that God has helped her achieve in the years following her greatest test of faith. While Joan navigates the twists and turns of living each day with hope and trust, God teaches her new lessons about His great love and faithfulness.  

 

A book club discussion guide is included at the back of the book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Forward Learning Resources
• Release date: Jul 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393283881

Bonnie Noble

Bonnie Noble is a curious traveller on the road to life. She has been a follower of Christ since she was ten years old. Through the writing of contemporary Christian fiction, Bonnie hopes to encourage others on their journey of faith. Bonnie parents eight wonderful children along with her husband. She works as a school principal near Toronto, Canada.

Book preview

ONE

November 30, 1998

Who is it?

Joan opened the door to the length of the security chain. A cold wind blew in and she wrapped her robe more tightly around her body. Outside it was dark. 

Joan, it’s Sharon, from up the street. I didn’t know if you were home since the lights haven’t been on for a few weeks. I saw your car in the driveway. Listen, I know it’s none of my business, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Joan stood in silence, ready to close the door.

I’m fine, Sharon. I’m fine. 

Joan, if you need something, all you have to do –

The door closed in Sharon’s face and she heard the deadbolt being latched. Sharon stood on the snowy doorstep staring into the darkness within. 

March 27, 2017

When people asked Joan why she had so suddenly decided to retire, she was unsure how to explain it. It was a dreary morning in March when she awoke to the sound of rain on her window. The prompting to submit her retirement papers had been both sudden and urgent as she lay on her back contemplating the ceiling. As was her daily practice, she talked to God while gearing herself up for the day. 

OK, Lord. I believe this is from you. It’s time for me to move on. Thanks for the urgent push.  May it be according to Your will. 

Joan and God had conversations all the time about everything. People might assume that she suffered from dementia had they observed her in the privacy of her own home speaking out loud to her Heavenly Father. She found herself doing it while she drove, while she shopped, and while she walked the many trails around the city. The decades of life she had lived since the shattering events of 1998 had taught her to hold on tightly to her Savior and not let go. This daily walk of faith provided meaning and purpose to her life.

On the topic of retirement, Joan and God had an on-going conversation. On Joan’s part there was a tangible fear of the unknown. The idea of giving up the routines that brought predictability and stability to her life caused her some anxiety. She was not certain that she could manage their removal. Submitting the documentation was a leap of faith for Joan that was a little like stepping off a cliff. Deep in her heart, however, she knew without a doubt that God would keep her from falling and perishing. Her job was to follow His instructions. He had proven this time and time again.

Because of her generous spirit and relentless kindness to others, she was not surprised by the outpouring of disappointment that staff members, students and their families expressed when they found out that she would retire at the end of the school year. As the school secretary, Joan found herself at the centre of the wheel. Everything that happened at the school involved her in some way, so removing herself would cause others some uncertainty as well. Joan knew that she was well-liked, and she truly enjoyed all of the people – or stakeholders – as the school board was in the practice of saying. As a follower of Christ, Joan asked daily for the Lord to open her eyes to see the brokenness around her in order to be His hands and feet. 

In this regard the Lord had surely heaped upon her the lost and the lonely, the searching and the desperate. Many of the students who found themselves ostracized by their peers found a listening ear and acceptance with Joan. Every day she had students ‘helping’ around the office with various tasks in order to give them a safe space to be heard and encouraged. 

Don’t you want to take a break and grab some lunch? teachers would ask her. And as for this fellow, don’t you think that he should be outside with his friends?

Joan was conscious of a subtle form of judgement levelled at both her and the students, but she always used these opportunities to build up the fragile self-concept of the listening child. 

To be honest, Joan would say to the staff member, I really appreciate his help. I couldn’t do my job without him. 

Her office helpers were a ragtag bunch of misfits who needed to contribute and to be encouraged at the same time. Some of them would have walked the perimeter of the yard alone for the entire recess had Joan not recruited them to help. Others would have ended up bullying others and causing no end of harm. These ones were especially near and dear to Joan’s heart.  Misunderstood, unloved, confused...These were children one might call hard to serve. The payoff for Joan came when the student began to make progress. She felt a deep satisfaction knowing that she had contributed to it in some small way, by the grace of God.

Why is Jolene here? a teacher once asked Joan.

Oh, well, Jolene and I are working on a special project.

Oh really? If only Jolene would put half as much effort into her work in the classroom, she’d be miles ahead of where she is now. I actually don’t think she’s earned the privilege of doing special things in the office, if you ask me. 

Well, Joan had replied, I happen to think that Jolene’s creativity and intellect are well above her peers in many areas, so I am surprised to hear that she hasn’t yet shown you. I love having her here helping, and until someone tells me that she is not allowed, I plan on keeping her working with me as much as possible. Joan and Jolene exchanged secret smiles when the teacher turned on her heel and left. 

The tricky part for Joan was ensuring that she was performing her job to the best of her ability while living out her faith to the greatest extent possible. Most people walked around with a very jaded view of humanity. It was as if their busy careers and lives had robbed them of compassion for others. Seeing someone else dole it out seemed to stir up guilt or resentment, which was then expressed as sarcasm and outright condemnation at times. It is also true that some of her colleagues believed only in the tough love approach which didn’t have much room for kindness in it. 

Over the years Joan had always leaned on the Holy Spirit to give her the needed grace in such exchanges. There had been times, of course, when she had been too sharp-tongued in her responses to people, but she always made a point of making things right afterwards. In those times, God always gave Joan an opening to share a little more of the greatest story of grace in the universe. Sometimes people listened politely, and accepted her apology, and other times it led to meaningful conversations that might continue off and on for months.   

Maintaining the right balance of work and servanthood was a juggling act with each new principal. Over thirty years of working at the school, there had been a long string of principals who had come and gone. Some had moved on to roles at the central office, some had retired, and some had moved to other schools. Each transition to a new partner in the office was tricky. Joan had to find a way to maintain her habit of showing Christlike love to every ‘customer’ who walked through the door, without drawing undue attention from the new principal. One fellow, John, had simply not wanted all the oddballs hanging about the office.

I don’t like it and I don’t want it, he had said very decisively after a few weeks of observing the office drop-in centre. Make it stop. 

In response, Joan had simply shifted things around to accomplish the same ends. She began to take her lunch break while supervising a lunch club in the library for those same children who would have found refuge in the office. Running the office without Joan over the busy lunch break was like trying to drive a car without an engine. 

Joan, look, said John, a week after the lunch club had launched in the library. I need you back in the office, and if you want to bring in some helpers, I can live with that. 

And so it went on, year after year. Kids might not remember what they learned in Social Studies or Science when asked about their school experience, but they would certainly remember the way that Joan made them feel when they had accomplished something important in class or when they had celebrated a birthday. What Joan did was not extraordinary in any way. She just loved people and they felt it.  Deep in their souls they understood that kindness had been transmitted to them, and if felt good. 

Because Joan had worked within the education system for so long, the rhythm of her life was strongly tied to the cycles of the school year and the feelings that come with each season. The rush of the school start up was something she approached with excitement and energy, but when the dust began to settle in mid-October and life took on a predictable ebb and flow, Joan always enjoyed the satisfaction of being part of a well-run machine. 

She lived alone in a Victorian brick bungalow with an inviting garden backing onto the river. This was Joan’s refuge, but it was also generously shared with anyone who needed a helping hand. With only one extra bedroom and a pull-out couch, Joan could not host large groups of people, but when a visiting pastor and his wife needed a place to stay over the weekend, Joan was the first to offer. Over the years she had enjoyed billeting young people from around the world who had come to the city to attend mission conferences, or to complete an internship at a local church. She was completely content to be alone in her quiet cottage, but having someone share her space, even for a night, reminded Joan that it was really God’s home to share. 

Joan enjoyed her long hikes along the paths that meandered all through the city and into the hills and forests beyond. She had realized early on in her adult life that being active was something that brought honour to God. Not only was it pleasant to prayerfully march along, but the exercise had resulted in good health. In fact, she was among the few at her church not suffering from obesity and other medical problems linked to a sedentary lifestyle. Despite the lovely life that Joan enjoyed, however, she often felt doubt nipping at her heels when she considered her contributions to God’s kingdom. So many people in the world were carrying burdens that she could not imagine:  staggering poverty, homelessness and hunger.

Why am I allowed to live such a comfortable life while so many others suffer? Joan would wonder to herself. Who could say why?

One thing was becoming more certain to Joan with each passing day. Joan knew that a life of comfort and self-indulgence in retirement was not the call on her life. Not that she begrudged others who enjoyed boat cruises and luxury holidays abroad. It’s just that these things did not strike a chord for her. There was no long-term, kingdom satisfaction in it. 

In light of all the suffering and sadness around her, it was a given that she would spend her time serving others in some capacity when she retired. When people talked to Joan about retirement, they would always tell her that she had the right to enjoy the fruits of her labour after working so many years. Joan would smile and inform them that she had other ideas. Sometimes, if the person was particularly persistent, she would simply say, with a twinkle in her eye, I’ll have lots of time to relax when I’m dead! That would usually change the subject rather quickly. The truth was that Joan was already feeling a rising excitement as she anticipated how God might lead her. 

TWO

W hat’s this I hear about you leaving us? the school psychologist asked while breezing through the office, signing out in the binder on the counter. 

Oh, don’t you worry, Claire, piped in Greta, the school principal. She’s not going anywhere.  I’m recruiting her as our full-time school volunteer the moment she retires.

Joan noticed these interchanges more often as her retirement date crept closer.

Familiar tasks that kept her insanely busy until the end of the year came with a pang of sadness for Joan as she contemplated not doing them again. After so many years, the checklist of requirements had kept her grounded and sane. So, it was not without some tension and worry that Joan tied up loose ends at the end of June and readied her office for a newly-hired secretary.

Greta, may I talk to you for a moment? Joan asked the principal a few days before the big send-off. 

Of course.

Joan settled herself into the black armchair facing Greta’s desk where piles of report cards and file folders lay. She knew that Greta was extremely busy, but Joan felt that familiar tug on her heart to say something, and she had learned over the years to obey it. 

Greta, I want to thank you for your encouragement and support over these past few months as I wrap things up to retire.

Of course, replied Greta with a pen in her hand, clearly ready to continue working on whatever task Joan had interrupted.

Greta, you have mentioned me volunteering here quite a few times and I wanted to be clear with you that I am not sure that I will be so led come the fall, stated Joan kindly.

Greta put down her pen and looked at Joan. 

May I ask what you mean by so led?"

Oh, yes, of course.

Joan paused. 

I think you have gathered from our various conversations that I am a person of faith.

Greta nodded.

Well, to be honest, I have learned to listen to God’s promptings and go where I sense that He is calling me. I am pleased to be reaching a point in my life when I won’t have the restrictions of time put on me from my job and I will be able to do things for others – to bless them. I will have time to do that now and I am still seeking God’s direction as to how my time should be spent.

I see, replied Greta. That is what always surprises me about you. I feel as though you always put others first. Even here at the school. I see it all the time. It is really an admirable trait, to be honest, but sometimes I worry that you give too much. At this school it seems that you are everyone’s mother, auntie, nurse and counselor. 

Yes, I suppose you could say that, stated Joan quietly. "About the auntie and nurse and such. But as for giving too much, I really don’t think that’s possible. I hope that I have made people feel loved and appreciated at the very least. In my retirement I am looking forward to being able to be more open about my beliefs – about my faith. Even though I love working here, I truly feel that I am only sharing with people a certain percentage of myself. With the required restraint around sharing my faith, I simply do the things I need to do to demonstrate Christ’s love, but I cannot share the most important and fundamental truths about the joy of being in relationship with the Living God. I am looking forward to being able to do that more fully as I retire."

Greta remained silent but looked thoughtfully at Joan. This was more personal and more spiritual than Joan had ever taken their conversations. 

I hope that I haven’t made you feel uncomfortable, Joan said. I just wanted to be completely honest with you now that I am leaving. I also want you to know that if you ever want to talk with someone or explore faith some more, I would be very happy to do that with you. Goodness knows how important it is to have someone to call on when we are struggling. God provided many such people when I needed it most. It would be an honor to do the same for others.

Greta looked directly at Joan.  

I did hear about the tragedy that happened in your life. It was so long ago and such a terrible thing that I never brought it up to you. I will say that I don’t know how it is that you live with so much joy given what has happened in your life. You are certainly a credit to the faith. 

Thank you, Greta. Joan lingered a moment more with her hands on the arms of the chair. Well, I’d better let you get back to work, she said. Thanks again. I know that the next few days are going to be challenging after so many years in this school. It will be hard to say good-bye. 

Yes, I am sure that’s true. By the way, did you happen to finish that bookkeeping report? I need to submit it by the end of the day. 

THREE

With the conclusion of the school year came the final school assembly with the farewells to departing staff. Joan was brought to the gymnasium and presented with flowers and a delicate silver bracelet with school-related charms. From her seat of honour, Joan enjoyed the various presentations of songs and acrostic poems made for her – the much-loved Mrs. Cooke - until the tissue box was nearly empty. Finally, a little boy who was a frequent visitor to the office, took the microphone and said boldly, Mrs. Cooke, I want to say thank you for everything. I am sorry for making your job hard some days. I love you. Everyone in the audience gave an audible sigh and more tissues were needed when Ethan impulsively ran over to Joan and gave her a big bear hug in front of the whole school.   

Not a dry eye in the house! exclaimed Greta at the end of the day while Joan packed up her gifts and cards. 

Well, it was very, very sweet, to be sure, said Joan.  I can tell you that it’s going to feel awfully strange to drive away from this place today. 

When the time came later that afternoon, Joan handed over her school keys and her little black book of passwords and contacts for her successor to guard. Seeing her laden with a heavy box, the custodian opened the door for her, walked her to her car, and ensured that the gifts were safely deposited into the trunk. 

Now that’s quite a haul, he said cheerily as he took one last look at her trunk full of gifts.   

"Yes. Thank you, Matt.  Take good care of yourself and