It’s that time of year again. The shepherds are bringing their flocks down from the hills and into the warmer valleys for winter grazing. I love driving past fields filled with hundreds of sheep; some nestled on the ground, others standing calmly observing the world.
Even more, I love watching a shepherd lead his sheep down a country road to a new field—a black guide dog at the front and end of the flock; white guardian dogs in the midst to protect the sheep along the way.
But best of all is seeing the sheep and remembering Jesus’ words: “I am the Good Shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me” (John 10:14).
At one time in my journey of faith, this verse would slip in and out of my head, never quite making it into my heart. Fortunately, the Holy Spirit kept working on both my head and my heart until the overwhelming impact of Jesus’ parable was clear.
Jesus, the Good Shepherd guides me—His sheep—and I belong to Him.
Jesus searched for me when I was lost and celebrated when I returned to Him.
I recognize the voice of the Good Shepherd and follow Him.
I am helpless without the Good Shepherd’s protection from the Predator.
Each day, I set out from my subdivision and turn onto a country road, hoping to see another flock grazing in a field. When I do, I smile and whisper “Thank you, Jesus,” happy to be one of His little sheep, no longer lost but now a much-loved part of His flock.
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