The Shepherd

We all have a story, you know? Have you ever seen a cartoon where for whatever reason the character starts falling down a snowy hill? She starts kind of like bumbling around, but gradually the rolling gains speed. Pretty soon she's gathering more and more snow and now she's a giant ball of chaos and icy pain and she's taking out innocent bystanders and comes to a sudden and exploding halt against the side of a barn somewhere at the bottom? Yeah, that's my story. Only it happens over and over and over. Up the hill I'd climb, trip up on some dumb stump that was clearly visable but I wasn't paying attention, and down I'd go. Crash. Die. Look up. And start the climb all over again. Sheesh I'm exhausted just typing it. Someday I may choose to share my story with you all, but that's not what this is about.

Three years ago, I watched a brave woman climb onto a stage and tell her story out loud to a congregation of women. Through hot tears, I watched her vulnerability with awe and wonder. Her story resonated with mine. Her words carved themselves onto my heart and immediately I knew I was to follow in her footsteps. I was supposed to be vulnerable and allow God to speak to a part of my childhood that I didn't even want to acknowledge had happened, let alone admit that it had affected me and my life. It was the first snow, but I couldn't admit I was cold. Before God could speak a word, I shut Him down. I didn't just ignore or say maybe. I cut him off and out loud said "Don't. You. EVEN! I won't. Hard pass."

I spent the next few years saying the same no. Even so, I wanted to be closer to God. I prayed He would speak to me. I asked for growth and change and healing. But the answer was always the same.

"We have to deal with this first."

So began a different cycle. Have you ever Meatloafed God? That's what I would call it anyways. Picture me, standing at the front of church, hands in the air, singing and praying. "God I would do anything for your love, but I won't do that." Years went by, and the gentle prodding had started to become like an annoying drip of water in a sink that just won't turn off all the way. Always there, always driving me crazy, but I could really only hear it when the room was quiet. So I kept myself super busy all of the time. Sometimes the calling would get so loud it was deafening. So I'd sing louder. "Anything. Anything at all God. But not that." But man was He relentless. Every corner I turned, there it was. Every devotional I opened, there it was. Everytime I went to church, there it was.

Drip.

Drip.

Relentless. Annoying.

"It's a no from me."

I really don't think it was coincidence, the injury to my leg. It came literally one week after a conference I attended. God spoke to me that weekend in an unmeasurable way. He took the words straight out of my journal and gave them to another woman to speak life into my heart. To leave zero doubt in my spirit that He was listening, speaking, and waiting for me. Honestly it was shocking. Yet it still wasn't enough. While thanking and crying and resting in what had just happened, I still said.."Mmm, maybe someday. But not yet." And then I broke my leg. And I knew immediately when it happened, it was not some random accident.

Have ya'll seen Talladega Nights? You know that scene when Granny finally gets ahold of the spoiled rotten boys and declares Granny Law? The boy looks her right in the eye and says "You're gonna break us like wild horses, aint ya Granny?" Yeah, that was me. Looking God right in the eye, I knew my life was about to turn upside down. I could write at minimum seven blogs on how God used that broken leg to teach me, to tame me, to give me the will to surrender, but that's not what this is about either.

I had lunch with the same woman I mentioned earlier that was sneaking around reading my journal when I wasn't looking. She doesn't know my story. She barely knows me at all, actually. We are new friends. But I told her this realization I'd had about God and this broken leg. I knew this was His doing but before I could share with her why or what I'd learned, she gasped. And with wide eyes, she shared a story with me.

In older times, in the open lands of far away countries, shepherds only had a dog or two to help them with their flock of sheep. Sheep would often get lost or wander too far, putting their lives at risk of injury or attack from wolves or other predators. When a shepherd had a very stubborn sheep that kept wandering off, he would try everything to keep her close. But the threats of the cliffs and forests were real and if after every attempt to regain the sheep had failed, the shepherd would put the sheep's leg against a rock and break it in a certain place.

Ok, let me pause. I know this is barbaric and obviously shepherds do not need this any longer. We have fences now. And lots of dogs. So don't attack me and call PETA or whatever. Just listen.

Part of the shepherd's job was to keep the sheep moving. They needed pasture and that meant rotating the flock to keep the grass fresh and find water when needed. So a broken leg was not convenient for anyone. Once this extreme measure was chosen, the shepherd would bend down and cradle the sheep onto his neck. And then he would carry her. When the day was over, he would bandage her and place oil on her wounds. He would carefully look after her until the day of healing came and she could learn to walk again. And when she did walk, she never strayed from her shepherd again.

As my friend spoke these words, my whole body had already started trembling. I had to go home and Google the story. Some say it is a myth, some historians say it was common practice in Syria and the surrounding countries. Some say what kind of a God punishes like that?! Some say the end justifies the means.

I say, wow. I don't believe and never did believe God was punishing me. I cannot even explain yet in words how different I am today because when that drip turned to a snap, I said fine. Actually the first thing I said was "bullshit I'm fine!" And then I said ok. And then I said yes. And then just as I thought my entire world was turning into chaos because of this yes, He called me daughter, and then He rescued me. And He cradled me and put me over His shoulders and carefully looked after me and taught me to walk differently.

And I will never stray from Him again. Not because God punished me and I learned a lesson. But because He showed me who He was. You see, I've believed in God my whole life becase my parents taught me to. I always chose Jesus because I knew I was supposed to. But it's different now. I choose Jesus because He is my rescuer. He always was my savior, but now He is MY savior. But more than all of that, He showed me who I am to Him. That I am worthy of being carefully looked after. He loves me and shows up for me and, I've never said this before, but I think He's proud of me.

If you are on the fence. If there is something leading you towards a movement that you are scared of. Say yes. Just say it. That's all you have to do to take the first step. I can't promise it will be beautiful and it definitely won't be easy, but it will be worth it. And you are worth it. Keep going.