Reflection – Submitted by Roberta-HHC

A Searching Shepherd –

God made thorns, he told himself. Thorns are good. But they hurt. They scrape the skin to blood. God made thorns, but why? Oh why?

God made rain, but it doesn’t seem to like the desert. Rocks are hot, and the sand is burning. The sand is cracked from thirst. Now, where have the sheep got themselves to?

I am the shepherd of the sheep, says the Lord. I search. To search is who I am. I am the one who wanders, the great walking one, the one who sleeps in the cold and culls the burrs out of their wool. Yes, I know—they cannot be recommended for intelligence. This is a small brain we are talking about. But I am their shepherd.

They are the objects of my love.

I take them up in my arms, my tired arms, my bleeding arms. And they are more to me than rest and beauty and food and light—my own, my flock, my creation.

And I love them. I bring them into cool valleys where the trees drop fragrant shade, and the birds serenade them, and they can hear the streams falling quietly from the hills. Where they can drink. They shall eat and drink and never want. They shall romp in the green grass and race in the wildflowers.

My own flock, with deep brown eyes that speak to mine, and white wool that sparkles in the dusk.

I have made them and sought them and brought them home.

Sr. Miriam Pollard – Miriam Pollard, OCSO, is a Sister of Santa Rita Abbey in Sonoita, Arizona.

PEACE,

Roberta HHC