This Friday will be the 10th anniversary of my first blog post here. Below I offer you the essay which has the most views (by a long shot). It has been such an important theme in my life, and in some ways it feels like our whole world is in the middle of the story right now. May the Lord open our hearts to the love and goodness He offers in the midst of and because of our pain.
Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones You have crushed rejoice.
(Psalm 51:8, HCSB)
A mentor introduced me to the following idea almost two decades ago. W. Phillip Keller's classic book A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 provided her source material. The image has reemerged in my thinking in multiple circumstances recently, so the time seemed right to share my storification of it with you.
Once upon a time, a good, wise, loving Shepherd bought a foolish and bedraggled little sheep to save her from the slaughterhouse her wicked former owner intended for her. Finding her in dangerous woods, He drew her to Himself, quickly winning her love and obedience by His tender care.
After awhile, though, she grew tired of simply following the Shepherd and enjoying His presence and began to wander about in search of opportunities to help and serve her Master. Eagerly, she would trot off in search of imperiled sheep who had gotten lost or hurt. Unfortunately, she often ended up lost, too, in the attempt to bring them back. She never minded her trials, since through them He found other lost sheep, as well. More than once, she herself was wounded by wolves or bears (or her own foolhardiness) attempting to rescue other wounded woolies. Never complaining, she wore her war-wounds proudly as emblems of her dedicated service.
Without fail, the Shepherd rescued her and brought her back, but the wayward, well-intentioned little lamb grieved Him. His desire was for her more than her wearing herself out in effort to please Him, and His greatest delight was in having her follow close by His side. Since she had never taken the time truly to know Him, she remained ignorant of His sorrow, until He finally stopped her wandering by breaking one of her legs.
Bleating in pain and astonishment, she kicked and bit and refused His kind overtures of comfort. Eventually, however, she grew too exhausted from the struggle to fight anymore. In her silent, helpless weariness, He bound up her wounds and cradled her tenderly, carrying her in His arms until her leg healed and she could walk again.
As she recovered, she learned to know the Shepherd’s heartbeat. She grew to love the mere pleasure of His nearness. Far greater than the superficial adrenaline rush of her former labors, her greatest joy became simply that of belonging to Him.
When her leg healed, and the Shepherd set her down to walk again, she no longer desired to wander from His side. In recognition of the change and as a reminder of her own brokenness, her Shepherd placed a bell around her neck. This way as she followed close by Him, the bell continually testified to the presence of her Good Shepherd. Wandering sheep often heard the bell and followed its ring back to His side. Wounded or cast sheep heard His approach and bleated for help, and the bell sheep would trot along beside Him, ringing the good news that helps was on its way, as He went to their rescue.