Friday, November 18, 2011

Lost Sheep

“See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven. What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly, I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. So it is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish. If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church. And if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.” Matthew 18:10-20

The Lost Sheep's Lament

Darkness fell so suddenly
the winter cold covers me
a blanket that is no warmth
but draws my heart from my chest
gasping for breath I find
myself alone.

The quiet is so loud
wolf cries and hawks above
signal friends a coming meal
and I am the main course
the goal of their singing.

No one to protects me no shelter
to be found no arms longing for me
no beating heart next to mine.

In the stillness of the night
a thunder of footsteps awaken me
I cringe into the deeper shadows
awaiting punishment and death.

No one to protects me no shelter
to be found no arms longing for me
no beating heart next to mine.

The first touch was tender
but I could not look I would not
gaze on my murderer would not
give into the pain that was to be offered
nor the slaughter's knife that
haunted all my dreams.

The hands wrapped around me
pulled me from the thorns
tearing at the brush that held me
pouring warm water on my wounds
my rescuer carried me to safety
carried me across the frozen landscape
and brought me back home.

My shepherd is my to protector my shelter
the arms always longing for me
the warm beating heart next to mine
the voice that whispered back to me
as I prayed in the darkness damp night
"it is not the will of my Father in heaven
that one of these little ones should perish".

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