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
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