Driving over the hill to a meeting in the next village, my wife sensed movement in the hedgerow. On investigation, we found a newborn lamb caught up in brambles. It had strayed from its mother and fallen through a gap in the hedge. From its sorry state, it must have hung there some time. Our hearts went out to this little fearful one. We longed to set it free, so it could live.
Speaking ever so gently to reassure, we approached and I tried to cut through the brambles with a craft knife. Unfortunately it wouldn’t keep still and allow me to make the delicate incision. The more I tried, the more it struggled, and the more it struggled, the more the chords tightened around its body and limbs. It was petrified with terror. Eventually it became so exhausted it gave in and allowed me to cut it free. I cradled it in my arms and carried it around to the field entrance and placed it on a bed of straw for its mother to care for.
Any of this sound familiar?
The little compassion we displayed that evening is nothing compared with the immense love Jesus, our Shepherd feels for us. It must really hurt Him when we struggle on our own. If only we would always allow Him to have His way in our lives and sort out our entanglements. He longs for us to Trust Him and expose our wounds, for the Shepherd to gently cleanse and heal.
I am learning to ‘nestle’ and not ‘wrestle.’