The Little Lamb

“It was early in the evening when I heard my brother crying. He was supposed to be beside me in the Pasture, but he sounded far off. So far off that no one else seemed to hear my brother’s call. My family was asleep, resting comfortably in the green grass beside the cool waters our Shepherd brought us to for the night.

The cries grew louder, yet no one stirred. My ears started to hurt, and with them my little heart.

That’s when I realized my Shepherd was missing.

In terror, I jumped up on my little feet and rushed towards the sounds of my brother’s cries. What if a wolf got him? What if he got hurt and our Shepherd was not there to take care of him? No. No I had to try to help my brother. I needed him in the Pasture, resting with me and playing with me.

In to the darkness I ran.

I could not see, so I ran even faster towards the cries of my brother. I did not need sight. All I needed was to hear my brother. All I needed was to find him. We could get back to the Pasture together.

But I did not see the fault line, drawn in the stone long before my time.

I fell in.

Now I was the one crying at the bottom of the fault. I was the one crying. My legs were broken by the fall. My head hurt because I couldn’t see where I was falling. My body ached, and all I could do was cry out for help.

No one woke to my brother’s cries. Who would find me?

A faint light came above the fault, and the sweet voice of the Shepard called out to me.

“Where were YOU?” I screamed from the bottom of the fault. Over and over I shouted out at the Shepherd as He climbed down the fault and scooped me in to His strong arms. He held me as I shrieked and cried and cursed. Not a word came from His lips.

In the silence my Shepherd carried me home to the Pasture.

My family took me in with my broken legs, and they took care of me.

But I was not satisfied.

I laid in the grass, but I could not rest. Night after night, I would watch as the Shepherd walked out of the Pasture. My eyes watched the edge of the Pasture, desperately waiting for my Shepherd to come Home. And as I watched the darkness, the cries of my brothers and sisters came to my little ears. Their cries were so loud that I could not sleep, nor did I want to sleep.

All I wanted was to go out in to the darkness, go to my siblings, but I knew that I could not. My broken legs reminded me that I was never going to be able to bring them back to the Pasture.

Just before the morning would break, at the darkest moment of the night, the Shepherd would walk back in to the Pasture with my sister or brother in His strong arms. They would be bruised or broken like me, but they were home at last.

As my eyes adjusted to the light my Shepherd carried with Him, I noticed something dreadful.

He was broken too.

My Shepherd was bruised. My Shepherd was cut to the bone. My Shepherd was covered in blood, sweat, and tears. My Shepherd was hurt, and He chose to be so. Broken, like me, my Shepherd brought my siblings back to the Pasture. Broken, like me, my Shepherd went in to the dead of night to bring life to the day. Broken, like me, my Shepherd was made whole.

I did not want my Shepherd to notice me watching Him, so I would shut my eyes as soon as He came through the narrow gate.

But one night I forgot to close my eyes.

“Why are you awake?” My Shepherd asked with a sweet smile. It was as if He was laughing. Did He know that I was watching Him all this time?

“You’re hurt,” I said with tears in my eyes, “Why are you hurt? Why do you get hurt?”

“I’m like you,” My Shepherd said, “I ran out to your brothers and sisters, and now I am hurt too. But now you are all safe, and I am with you.”

“Please,” I started to cry, “Please let me help you.”

My Shepherd looked at me with pity. The little lamb could not possibly do a thing to help Him. The little lamb was too broken to play in the Pasture with her family. Yet here she was, listening to the cries of her brothers and sisters in the darkness, asking for a chance to help. Yet here she was, unable to rest in the Pasture, pleading for a purpose.

He scooped me in to His arms and kissed my forehead.

“Rest now so that I may love you,” he whispered, and I fell asleep in His arms.

I slept in my Shepherd’s arms that entire day. I did not notice because I fell asleep without even a single thought. Not a thing could stir me awake. In silence, I slept in my Shepherd’s strong arms, unaware of what was to come. All I knew was that I was safe, that I was at peace, that I was loved.

I awoke in the darkness, amidst the screams of my siblings. 

I had never heard sorrow quite so loud.

Fear filled my heart. All of the pain in the world surrounded me, and there was nothing I could do. I nearly jumped out of my Shepherd’s arms, but when the fear took a hold of me, My Shepherd clutched me even tighter. He held me so close that I could not dare to move away from Him. Instead I looked up in to His eyes.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Let Me Show you,” my Shepherd cast His light out at the darkness. 

In the dim light, I could see a bush. The bush was filled with thorns and brambles and other terrible things. Yet as I looked even closer, I noticed the light was just a bit brighter at the center. In the bright light, I saw my brother. He was crying. He was hurt. He was trapped in the bush, and no one could get him out.

“I will go in to the bush,” My Shepherd said.

“No!” I cried, “You are too big to go in the bush! Let me go in the bush! Let me go! Please let me help You!”

My Shepherd lowered me down. Without hesitation, I ran in to the bush. Thorns snagged at my fleece, but I did not care. Brambles caught my ears, but I did not care. All I cared about was my brother, lost in the thorns and bushes. His cries were so loud now that I could barely hear my own heart racing as I pushed through the bushes.

My brother continued to shriek as I pushed the thorns from his face and nudged him out of the bush.

It took so long to get out of the bush that my once white fleece turned pink. I don’t know if it was my brother’s blood or my own that covered me, but I did not care. My Shepherd was there. He would take care of us. He got me out of the fault, and He would save my brother too.

Before I could even get out of the bush, My Shepherd pulled my brother and I out of the bushes. Blood flowed from His strong arms as He pulled us out of the thorns. It fell on my fleece, and suddenly the blood I shed on behalf of my brother turned white. The cuts remained, but the stain was gone.

Then I realized that my legs weren’t broken anymore.

“I can walk,” I gazed up at My Shepherd as He scooped me in to His strong arms again.

“Not for long,” he said, “You are still broken, but because you love your brother, you can walk for him. It will be a long time before you will play in the Pasture again.”

“But why?” I teared up, “Why don’t you want me in the Pasture?”

“I do want you in the Pasture my love,” he whispered to soothe my angry heart, “But you cannot sleep at night. You hear the cries I hear all day, and you cannot rest. So I must hold you close in the Pasture. You cannot heal without rest. So I will heal you in the darkness, where no one can see you. As day breaks, you will sleep in my arms as I tend to your family. Your dreams will be filled with love of your family, and that love will compel you to walk again in the darkness. So your love will help you walk again.”

And so I followed my Shepherd day and night, following the little ones. Broken though I might be, my love for them made me stronger. My Shepherd made me stronger.

My Shepherd took me in to the places where only the littlest of lambs could go, and he gently cradled me as my body healed from the torture. Not once did He ask me to go. Not once did He tell me to do anything. He let me love the little ones.

In time, My Shepherd let me walk beside Him in the darkness. Light followed wherever He went, but no one could see me. It tired me to walk, and I longed for the days I could sleep in My Shepherd’s arms.

But I could be strong for My Shepherd.

I thought I had to be strong for My Shepherd.

As I started to walk in the darkness, I started to awaken during the day in My Shepherd’s arms. My legs were weak, but I could stand up straight in the Pasture now. With wobbly legs, I started to walk towards my family. They rejoiced at seeing me, but when they realized that I could not play like them, they were distraught. Some blamed My Shepherd. Some blamed me.

No one knew about my brothers and sisters.

They never saw me in the darkness. Even if they did, what they really saw was My Shepherd’s strong hands which drew them in to His strong arms. I would snuggle beside my brothers and sisters on our way home, but they could not see me in the dark.

So they blamed me and My Shepherd too.

One day I woke in the middle of the day. I did not want to leave My Shepherd, so I pretended to sleep. He knew that I was faking. He always knows when I am hiding, even when I don’t want Him to know why I am hiding. With love in His voice, My Shepherd asked me to open my eyes.

“Why won’t you play in the Pasture?” He asked, “Is this not what you want?”

“I do want to play,” I said, “But I am not strong here. I am strong with You.”

“I am always with you,” My Shepherd reminded me.

“But not like when I am with my brothers and sisters outside,” I said, “If only I could spend all day and all night with them. Then I would be strong. Then I would be able to play again. Then I would have someone to be with.”

“Am I not someone?” My Shepherd asked.

“Someone like me,” I said, “A little lamb who can hear the other lambs. Why can’t they hear our brothers and sisters crying in the bushes? Why do they judge my scars and bruises when You have the same ones? Why am I alone?”

My Shepherd did not answer. He just kissed my forehead and held me tight. It was not time for me to play yet. In the silence, My Shepherd made the Pasture feel even greater than the darkness.

Night came, and I waited for My Shepherd to take me out in to the darkness.

Instead, He sat in the Pasture, and He let me watch my family sleep. At first it seemed boring, but as I continued to watch, I noticed that there were others who could not sleep. Their eyes were fastened shut, but they were not at rest. They were like me.

“Why can’t they come with us?” I asked.

“Because they have already gone where you are going,” My Shepherd said, “There will be many more like you, and there are many more who are still like you. Just as your brothers and sisters cannot see you in the darkness, so too can you not see your siblings who walk in the darkness beside us. You cannot see the ones who snuggled beside you, but they are there too.”

“Why can’t I see them?”

“Because you and your siblings were made to be forgotten. Not for forever, but for now you will be in the darkness. I will never forget you, not a single one of you. I will never forget those who can rest in the Pasture either. I will never forget my lambs because I will always love my lambs,” My Shepherd’s eyes met mine, and He placed his hand on the top of my head.

The next night I walked out with My Shepherd, and even though I felt like it was just the two of us, I also felt like there were many present in our little journey.

We walked towards the cries, unafraid of the cuts and bruises we would receive. I will never know why My Shepherd never cared about His own wounds when they never fully healed. I knew that I was safe in His presence, so I did not care if I got hurt again. Nothing could destroy me when My Shepherd walked beside me.

I climbed out of a fire-pit with my sister over my shoulders. My Shepherd came down in to the pit with me, and He was badly burned. Yet He still smiled at us as He cradled us in His arms.

More confident than ever, I decided to ask another question.

“Will I ever remember one who walks with us?” I asked, “Surely there are more lambs here and now.”

“Someday you will have a lamb to walk with in the darkness, and I will come to you both as I have come to you every night. For now, you must rest in My arms. For now, you must wait for the other to be strong too. They will be stronger than you, My little one. They must be because you are little, too little to walk on your own. I will make him strong. That will take time, more time than you can know,” he paused, “But I will not leave you alone in the darkness when your time comes to walk to the Pasture. I will give you a companion who will walk alongside you, and together you will help my lambs find the Pasture.”

Someday I will be remembered, but for now I will walk in the shadows of death with My Shepherd, caring for His little lambs.

For now I will walk with my Shepherd because I know that I am safe at His side.

He walks with me, casting light amidst the shadows, softening the shrieks of my siblings whom I love too much to bear. 

And when the darkness tries to hurt me, my Shepherd scoops me up in His strong arms, kisses my forehead, and tells me to sleep. There I rest in His arms, safe in the silence, and I know that I am well. When I awake, I am in the Pasture, and my Shepherd is still holding me in His strong arms. He smiles down at me, and He helps me stand and play with my family in the Pasture.

Then, as night falls again, He calls me to His side, ready for another night with me.

At times I feel the presence of my siblings who share my path, but I do not seek to see them. All I need to see is the light my Shepherd gives me.

But someday I will walk on my own in the Pasture. Someday I will walk through the shadows. Someday I will be strong.

But for today, and for every day I can imagine, I will rest in my Shepherd’s arms, trusting that He will not leave me to walk alone.

Amen.