The Lost Lamb

Sometimes the lost lamb

doesn’t know she is lost.

Sometimes the broken one

is too numb to feel her own pain.

Sometimes the captive one

feels at home in her prison.

Sometimes the slave believes

that in her chains she is free.

How can this be?

The lost lamb fears not the wolf.

The lost lamb dreads not the night.

The lost lamb wanders into the lion’s den

She feels no fear, she has no care.

She only feels hunger and cold

The farther she goes from the fold.

She feels the Shepherd was holding her back

From lusher pastures and sweet weedy snacks

Now free from the flock, she joins the pack,

With wolves all around her,

will she ever come back?

The winter is cold, and the icy rains fall

She feels so alone and has nothing at all

So far from home, and too fearful to call

Silent she hides among lions and wolves

The poison, the pain, the darkness of night

The threat of starvation, the fear of the fight

Without her shepherd, and the warmth of the flock

Hungry, and desperate and frightfully lost.

And each night she longs for the Shepherd

To be found, to be loved to be safe.

Yet in the day, starved and afraid, she still seeks her own way, pretending to be brave

Sometimes the lost lamb

knows she is lost.

Sometimes the numb one

feels pain again.

Sometimes the captive one

flees from her prison.

Sometimes the slave can see

In her chains she can never be free.

Does the Shepherd still see?

Only He can make her safe, and loved and free.

Only the Good Shepherd can give her what she needs.

-Sarah Janisse Brown

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