Not Even A Sparrow

by DanWolgemuth on January 23, 2026

Our flight landed late on January 10th at Denver International. Mary and I were returning from a trip we hadn’t planned—but one God had prepared for us. A journey that included long hours at the bedside of my brother Robert as he drew his last breath.

This was not part of our 2026 plan. In fact, Robert is the first of the Wolgemuth siblings to die. Uncharted territory.

The next afternoon, after our return from Grand Rapids, Mary and I were in the kitchen when we heard a muted thud. Our deck sits just beyond the kitchen table, separated by a sliding glass door. Along the railing are four bird feeders and a bird bath. For the first time in months, a sparrow had crashed into the window, his tiny frame now motionless on the deck.

I suggested to Mary that perhaps it had been only a stunning blow, not a lethal one. Time would prove me wrong. The sparrow was dead.

Vivid and important was the lesson I was not to miss.

Jesus spoke. And on January 11th, 2026—roughly thirty-six hours after my brother had passed from this earth—the language of Scripture was amplified as never before:

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?

And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.” (Matthew 10:29, ESV)

Not even a sparrow falls without the sovereign and loving hand of God in play. Indeed, God sent a sparrow to remind me that Robert’s death was not some random mishap. While unexpected for us, it was not a surprise to Him.

God knew.
Yes—in God’s plan, if not in ours.

There was comfort in the sparrow.
Because God knew.
Because God knows.
Because God cares.

“So don’t be afraid… You’re worth more than a million sparrows.”
(Matthew 10:31, MSG)

Once again, Jesus calibrates our fears. He comforts us in our loss. He gives context to our pain.

That sparrow that fell—He knew.
That brother who died—He loved. He knew.

There is mystery in life.
There is mystery in death.

Only God knows.
Always God knows.

I rest there.

P.S. – For those of you interested in watching the funeral service (2pm EST) for my brother, Robert Wolgemuth, it can be streamed through: www.ReviveOurHearts.com/Robert

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From Wuhan to Bethlehem

by DanWolgemuth on December 24, 2025

In April of 2020, I wrote the following fragment. Because of its relevance to Christmas, I thought we would run it again. Yes… Christ came. And it changed everything.

6,900 miles. That’s how far it is from Wuhan, China, to Denver.
6,900 miles from the genesis of a global disease—a genesis that will be the topic of discussion, speculation, accusation, and fury for years to come. The stuff of theories and books and movies.

A virus. Small. Contagious. And swift.

6,900 miles. That’s how far it is from Bethlehem, Israel, to Denver.
6,900 miles from the genesis of a global movement—a genesis that has been the topic of discussion, speculation, accusation, and fury… and transformation and redemption for millennia.

A birth. Small. Isolated.

COVID-19. A mark on a generation. Unforgettable for a season. But finite. Discrete. Eventually contained. The waves of impact washing over global economics and international politics. For a season. For now.

Bethlehem. Jesus. The living, loving, spotless Son of God. A mark on human existence. Infinite. Eternal. Uncontainable and unconstrainable. The waves of impact washing through every nuance of life. No exemption from His love. No exception. God loving the world in Jesus. Through Jesus. For now. For yesterday. For eternity.

A virus controlled with distance.
A virus defined by masks.
A virus that isolates.

A Savior defined by proximity.
A Savior who comes near.
A Savior who unites.

6,900 miles. A submicroscopic infectious agent that replicates only inside the living cells of an organism. A parasite. A killer. Indiscriminate. Contagious.

6,900 miles. An infant. Tiny and fragile against the backdrop of history. A Nazarene. A Jew. Working class. Life-giver. Abundance-bringer. Transformer. Contagious.

A virus that marks a generation.
A King who marks the cosmos.

One confined to mortality.
The other empowered by eternity.

One confronts medicine and economics.
The other assaults the gates of hell.

6,900 miles. From Wuhan to Bethlehem. From death to life.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.
I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

(John 10:10, ESV)

COVID-19. To steal and kill and destroy.

Jesus. Life-giver. Abundance-producer.

6,900 miles. From death. To life.

Only.
Always.
Jesus.

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The Missing Ingredient

December 19, 2025

For over twenty years, Mary and I have lived in our two-story house on Davies Way in Aurora. That’s longer than we’ve ever lived anywhere. In addition to repainting rooms and replacing carpet, we’ve also gotten to know the neighbors around us—specifically, four families. Over the past three years, as my affection for baking has […]

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The Mark of Christmas

December 12, 2025

1 vein.2 arteries. This is what’s contained in an umbilical cord. One vein delivering oxygen and nutrients to the baby in the womb; two arteries carrying waste and low-oxygen blood away. Somewhere between week 4 and week 8 of pregnancy, the umbilical cord forms and begins its vital work. Then, for the remainder of the […]

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Once 13, now 18…

December 5, 2025

Malia. Our oldest grandchild. This week she turns 18. As I’ve reflected on this significant milestone, I was drawn back to a post I wrote five years ago… Saturday was a night of celebration. Malia, our oldest granddaughter, turned 13. A teenager. A beautiful young woman. Her own voice. Her own gifts. Malia. So it […]

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A Rolling Stop?

November 26, 2025

Littered throughout my neighborhood are stop signs. In fact, just about 100 feet north of my driveway is one, and a quarter of a mile south is another—both of which I’ve passed hundreds of times over the last 20 years. While I understand that the octagonal sign says STOP, I seldom feel compelled to do […]

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This Can’t Go On…

November 21, 2025

Words mattered. My mom made sure I understood that. Her children, including her youngest, were often more haphazard, flippant, or even mean with language. Periodically—and always timely—I would hear her offer some paraphrase of the American poet Will Carleton’s quote: “Thoughts unexpressed may sometimes fall back dead; but God Himself can’t kill them once they’re […]

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Veterans Day

November 14, 2025

“Greater love has no one than this: that someone lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13 Bruce Cargo was a young man when he walked into the jungles of Vietnam. Thousands of miles from his family in Port Huron, Michigan—surrounded by the confusion of war—Bruce carried the honor of his nation and the […]

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“You’re not the boss of me…”

November 7, 2025

From time to time, as I am reading a passage of Scripture, a memory is triggered and I am instantly transported to a moment in time. Specifically, it was Exodus 40 that provided my ticket for a return trip to Franklin, Tennessee, in the late 1980s. We had moved to a quiet neighborhood in 1987 […]

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Chicken Enchiladas and So Much More

October 30, 2025

There were meals that reached “star status” when our kids were young—recipes that hit the spot time and again. And truthfully, those same dishes still top our family’s list of favorites. Fast forward to Monday night. Mary, who volunteers on the “meal team” at Colorado Community Church, had a family to deliver dinner to. There […]

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