BEING A SHEEP

It’s really not important what we think about the Lord. There’s all sorts of opinions that people could afford. But do they really matter? Oh Yes indeed they do. But God is not the subject of either me or you. I may think He’s a tyrant with a face as black as sin. I may think He is beautiful locked up inside a tin. But all of my impressions don’t alter Him at all. He’s Lord of all creation regardless of my call. But if I want to follow Him, I need to understand, I have to think about Him the way that He has planned. It’s not so much a question of what I think of Him. What is much more important is what He thinks of Jim! He says He is our shepherd. This means I am a sheep. It’s isn’t complimentary but something I must keep, Constantly before me as I follow where He leads. If I wander off then I will miss out on my feed. It means I’m very stubborn. My hearing’s rather poor. He knows there’s a solution that will absolutely cure, The problem of my waywardness. He simply breaks my paw. Then picks me up and carries me till its no longer sore. He winds me round His shoulders. My head is on His heart. I listen to it beating until it is a part, Of living where He takes me. He feeds me from His hand. And when He puts me down again I’ll never leave His band. He takes me to still waters that will not go up my nose. He only has to say my name, then everywhere He goes, I’ll follow him no matter where He is leading me. And when I am in danger He protects me constantly. He keeps me from the lion, the eagle and the bear; And when I am in trouble, I know that He is there. He keeps away diseases caused by insects, bugs or flies. He keeps me warm in winter under cold and dark blue skies. He leads me to green pastures; to verdant fields of grass, Where I can graze in safety and the predators can’t pass. This is the sort of picture that Jesus has of me. He knows my every weakness and how foolish I can be. But even in rebellion I know that He is there; And that He never ceases to hold me in His care. This is the Lord’s opinion. This is the man He sees. A creature with a stubborn streak of vague anxieties. A man who has no talent apart from what He gave, Who’s on a lifetime journey from the cradle to the grave. A man who has a need for Him I do not understand. A man whom He has rescued from the journey of the damned. Who doesn’t understand it. Why He did this for me? He thought I was important. His reason I can’t see. Jim Strickland – Written Monday, 18 July 2011