Whisper

I look up from my place and see the Shepherd coming in.  He sits down.  He seems tired.  My belly hurts.  I crawl over and place my head against his thigh.  He rubs my head behind my ear and under my chin.  It feels good, reassuring. 

Then he kneels in front of me and takes my head in both his hands.  He gently lifts my eyes to his.  Then he lays his forehead against mine.  His eyes match mine, his nose on top of my nose.  He whispers some words.  I can't understand them; I am just a dog.  But they sound wonderful, mysterious, full of meaning.  I wish I could understand them.

Then I feel the words pass into me; from my ears and face they go all the way down through me and into my belly.  And the pain there stops.

Sheepdog

I knew someone who once said, if Jesus is the 'Good Shepherd', we should be sheepdogs. This is an excellent metaphor if you think it through.

In order of existence, no human could be equal with God, so an 'animal is to human as human is to God' analogy works well to describe humans. Not to mention that anthropomorphism has always been used to cast a spotlight on aspects of human nature.

Dogs are familiar animals. They are well adapted...actually bred by humans to be companions and assistants to humans. Our two biological paths are intertwined nearly as far back as we can trace. If there is any one animal that would best represent our existence in relation to God's on our own level, I think it would be a dog. They understand us, though not completely. They trust, but think for themselves. They are dependent on us, but capable of surviving alone if conditions are right...though even then, mostly still adjunct to humanity. Few stray dogs actually go wild like, say, a cat might. They are moldable into various behaviors and modes of being...that is, trainable.

Beyond this, dogs exhibit some of the best qualities in humans. Loyalty, affection, devotion, service, selflessness, altruism, etc.

So to extend into the realm of sheepdogs, they go where the shepherd commands. They hear his voice and they know their job. They encircle the sheep and keep them safe. They are extensions of the shepherd, but he is the head. They serve with joy and abandon, because the tasks they perform are what they were bred for. It is instinctual, though it must be refined by training.

They respond only to the Shepherd and will not deviate from his commands, though they are free and unleashed to adapt to their work as they see fit. They also thrive on the praise and affection of the Shepherd and seek no other reward.

This is what I want to be. This is largely how I feel. Deep down, I honestly don't care for status and accomplishments, career, etc. I just want to do what brings me and others joy and have enough to be sufficient. I want to be free to lay at my master's feet and feel his touch. and when he speaks to me, I want ot respond instantly.

I find this metaphor especially strong in the service I do with children. I find it sheer joy to play with them, to let them be children with me. I would sooner die than have any harm fall to any one of them. But I know the bounds they must have and I am not shy about enforcing those disciplinary boundaries for the sheeps' own good. Better a nip or bark from me than a greater harm that they can't see. I will not allow a sheep to mislead the others and I am fiercely protective of them against any wolves. I know my master's voice and his commands to me and I will obey them until I am called off by him alone.

I hope to be a good sheepdog.