Promise of New Life
(Ref 2/26)

Oil painting done on stretched canvas.
No need to frame - ready to hang on wall

Size of canvas : 80 x 155 cm

R25 000

I know what you may be thinking: Why paint sparrows—and even dead sparrows?
The short answer is this: because even death can be beautiful, and without death, nothing new can be birthed.
During COVID-19, I lost my art gallery in Stellenbosch. At the time, I felt as though I had lost not only my business, but also my purpose and even my ministry. I had only just begun to walk in what I believed was my calling, and suddenly, it seemed that everything had been taken away.
The Word says that God gives and takes away. Yet this was painful, and I struggled to understand it. Was I in error? Had I done something wrong? Why did this happen?
Some of those questions still remain unanswered.
What I did receive, however, was a quiet inner knowing—a deep sense of peace. And strangely enough, that peace came through watching the sparrows outside my window during those early mornings of lockdown.
The sparrows were completely unaware that the world had changed. They did not know that humanity was living through a pandemic or that life, as we knew it, had been brought to a standstill. They simply continued to live.
They built their nests. They searched for food. They carried on with their lives without worrying about where their next meal would come from.
Watching them reminded me of how beautifully God cares for His creation and of the promises in His Word that He will care for us as well. If He watches over the sparrows, how much more does He care for us, who are so much more precious in His sight?
The Sparrow in Scripture
In Psalm 84, the psalmist expresses his deep longing to be near God. He uses the beautiful imagery of the sparrow and the swallow—small and seemingly insignificant birds that build their nests safely and freely near the altar of God.
There is something profoundly beautiful in this picture. These small birds are able to come freely into the very place where God is worshipped. They build their homes there, undisturbed and unafraid.
They are not rejected.
They are welcomed.
This imagery speaks to me of the heart of God: a God who makes room even for the smallest and seemingly insignificant.
Matthew 10:29–31 reminds us:
“You can buy two sparrows for only a copper coin, yet not even one sparrow falls from its nest without the knowledge of your Father. Aren’t you worth much more to God than many sparrows?”
Jesus encourages us not to fear by pointing to two remarkable truths. First, God cares for the sparrow—the smallest and least valuable of birds. Secondly, He knows even the number of hairs on our heads.
If God takes care of something as seemingly insignificant as a sparrow, and if He knows even something as small as the number of hairs on our heads, how much more will He care for us?
One of the glorious attributes of God is that He notices both the smallest and the greatest. He sees what others may overlook.
And perhaps one of the greatest comforts we can receive when we are suffering is the knowledge that we are never forgotten by our Heavenly Father.
He who remembers the falling sparrow will not be unmindful of us.
Death and New Beginnings
Towards the end of last year, I found a dead sparrow lying in the road. It caused me to think deeply about death—not only physical death, but also the death of dreams, seasons, businesses and relationships.
I thought about the death of my art gallery. I thought about the loss of loved ones. I thought about the things in our lives that come to an end, sometimes without explanation or warning.
But once again, God comforted me through His Word.
Ezekiel 18:32 says:
“For I have no pleasure in the death of the one who dies,” says the Lord God. “Therefore turn and live!”
And Psalm 116:15 declares:
“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.”
This verses are deeply comforting because it shows us that God does not regard the death of His people as insignificant. Their lives matter to Him, and even their deaths are precious in His sight.
This brings me back to the words of Jesus in Luke 12:7:
“But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows.”
None of us can escape death.
There is the death of dreams, the death of hopes, the loss of businesses, the loss of financial security, the loss of relationships, and eventually the physical death of those we love.
But death is not necessarily the end.
God promises that He will never leave us. And sometimes, through the deepest pain and greatest loss, He makes room for something new to be born.
The Seed Must Die
We ourselves could never have received the promise of eternal life without Jesus first dying on the cross for our sins.
Through His resurrection, we have the assurance that we, too, can have eternal life when we choose Him as our Lord and Saviour.
Jesus said in John 12:24:
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it dies, it bringeth forth much fruit.”
A seed must fall into the ground and die before it can produce new life.
There is a mystery in this.
What appears to be an ending can actually be the beginning of something new.
What looks like death can contain the promise of life.
What appears to be a loss can become the soil in which something new is born.
The Almond Blossom
I painted the almond blossom as a symbol of new life to come. Promises of life in abundance.
The almond tree is among the first trees to awaken in spring. After the apparent “death” of winter, new life begins to emerge.
The blossom itself carries a promise. It is a sign of the fruit that is still to come.
In Jeremiah 1:11–12, the Lord asks Jeremiah:
“What do you see?”
Jeremiah answers:
“I see a rod of an almond tree.”
And the Lord replies:
“You have seen well, for I am watching over My word to perform it.”
The Hebrew word for almond tree is shaqed, which is related to the Hebrew word shoqed, meaning “watching,” “being alert,” or “hastening.”
The almond therefore became a powerful picture of God's faithfulness—of His watchfulness over His Word and His determination to bring His promises to pass.
God watches over His Word.
He does not forget what He has spoken.
The almond blossom reminds me that even when we cannot yet see the fulfilment of a promise, God is still at work.
Aaron's Rod — Life from What Appeared to Be Dead
We see this same symbolism in the story of Aaron's rod.
Aaron's rod was a dead piece of wood, yet it blossomed with almond flowers.
A dead branch produced blossoms.
Something that appeared to have no life produced evidence of life.
For me, this is a beautiful picture of what God does through Jesus Christ.
Jesus said in John 11:25:
“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he dies, yet he shall live.”
The almond, being one of the first trees to bud in spring, becomes a fitting picture of Christ, who is described as “the firstborn from the dead.”
What appears to be dead is not necessarily finished in the hands of God.
God Watches Over His Word
The almond blossom therefore speaks to me of God's promise.
God watches over His Word to perform it.
Just as God watches over the almond blossom as it opens and unfolds its beauty, so He watches over His promises and prophecies until they come to fulfilment.
If the Almighty can spend an entire year working within creation to bring a single flower into bloom—if He can lavish the resources of the earth and the power of the heavens upon something so delicate and seemingly insignificant—how much more will He watch over His Word concerning the highest welfare and destiny of humanity?
This is reason for painting the sparrows, the dead sparrows and the blossoms.
They are all reminders of the same truth:
God sees what we cannot see.
God remembers what we have forgotten.
God watches over His promises.
And sometimes, what we perceive as death is simply the beginning of a new season.
The sparrow reminds me that I am seen.
The dead sparrow reminds me that death is not the end.
The almond blossom reminds me that new life will come.
And the resurrection of Jesus reminds me that God can bring life from what appears to be dead.
So, even in seasons of loss, I choose to believe that God is still working.
He is watching.
He is remembering.
He is bringing His Word to pass.
And where there has been death, He can bring forth life.