Every morning, when I come out of my bedroom, I am met with an awesome reminder of God’s love for me, for all of us…and I connect with that selfsame reminder each evening on my way to bed for the night. I always have to stop, if only for the briefest of moments, and smile, a silent “thank you” sent up in prayer. I am so very loved and he just won’t let me forget it.
Mama and Pops gave me this drawing. I had asked for it for Christmas a few years ago. It is by an artist named Katherine Brown. When I saw it for the first time, it shook me to my core. It spoke to me with a resonance I have never been able to explain. All I knew was that I needed to have it with me. Now I do.
I am always reminded of the story of the shepherd and the wayward lamb. I had often seen paintings depicting a shepherd carrying a lamb around his neck. For some reason I found the renderings to be comforting but I never understood the reasoning for carrying the animals in such a manner. Joyce Meyer explained it one day as I listened to one of her tapes.
Apparently, when a particular sheep would continually wander away, the shepherd would have no other recourse than to use his rod to carefully break one or two of the wandering animal’s legs to prevent it from roaming and potentially leading the other sheep astray as well.
Once the animal was incapacitated, it would have to rely on the shepherd for virtually everything. The shepherd would carry the sheep around his neck, to give the broken limb or limbs time to heal. Everywhere they went, the shepherd would carry the sheep. The shepherd would bring food and water to the sheep and make sure it had a comfortable and safe place to lie down to sleep where it would be protected from predators.
The sheep would come to see the shepherd as being everything he needed…his provider…his comforter…his shelter…so that by the time his wounds healed, the sheep would have become so dependent on and trusting in the shepherd that he would never want to wander away from him again.
“The Lord is my shepherd…”
He broke my legs. Sure, he had to do it more than once but I think I’ve finally figured it out and I sure do hope and pray I don’t ever go wandering off anymore.
This precious piece of art hanging in the hallway outside my bedroom door is my daily gentle reminder…not only of my own “broken legs” but also of those wounds on his hands showing me again and again all that he was and still is willing to go through to keep me with him.
I am so very loved.