Once A Wandering Sheep

 

 

Like a sheep I wandered

I couldn’t find the fold,

I was hunted by the enemy

And he tormented my soul.

Unkempt and bedraggled

My own stench offended,

Pretentious and unreal

Into the crowd I blended.

It was mighty horrible

Especially in the night,

In my heart I was mindful

I was losing the fight.

A good face in the the day

Nightmares during the night,

However I twisted or tuned

It didn’t feel right.

I tried all types of pasture

That temporarily satisfied

And that genuine satisfaction

I was constantly denied.

I called out and I screamed,

“Somebody, please help!”

But none seemed to understand

The misery I felt.

It was then I realized

That none like me could help,

They too were in jeopardy

And felt what I also felt.

The tumult about me was loud,

I could hardly hear me think

And with every failure I met

My heart would further sink.

But then I heard a voice

It was not at all loud,

It came right through to me

Above the tumult of the crowd.

  

So soft and unlike the rest

Yet penetrating all my fears,

“Come to me my little sheep.”

It was said with tender care.

This was very strange indeed

From what I was accustomed to

But the owner of that voice said,

“My little sheep, I mean you.”

“Who are you?” I heard me ask,

To which the voice replied,

“I am the Shepherd of the fold

Inviting you to come inside.”

I had been at this point before

But I feared I couldn’t measure up,

Don’t you bother,” he said to me,

“I have taken your bitter cup.”

For sin he did not have

To die a death I could not die,

He gave me a life I could not live

And told me on him to rely.

All of him and nothing of me

Nothing to give in exchange,

But all he asked was all of me

And even that he did arrange.

With such an offer I did accept

And that, after a while, I admit

But I’m no more a wandering sheep

And in heavenly places I sit.

An heir and joint heir

With my heavenly King,

Thank God this sheep

Can lift his voice and sing…

Hallelujah I have found him

My Shepherd my Saviour my Lord,

No longer a wandering sheep

I am kept by his precious Word.

Stewart Russell © January 2019