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You Tend Your Flock {Holy Week: Monday}

Monday2

View of Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives

I couldn't help but love Jerusalem when I visited it.  Israel is so much smaller than you imagine when reading the Scriptures, most places an easy drive from another.  But then you enter the Holy City and first glimpse it from the Mount of Olives.  The city is sprawling with people in every corner and the giant Temple Mount dominating the skyline.  The voices rise from her streets in several languages, mixing in a beautiful symphony, and the smells bombard your senses like sweet perfume.  It is simply breathtaking.

On Monday of Jesus' last week on earth He looked over the city that God had chosen so many years before and He wept.  In the city where God's Presence had rested, Kings had reigned and battles had been waged, the people were like a sheep without a shepherd.  Their King stood before them and they missed Him.  They would look Him right in the eye and spit upon Him.  Jesus wept because He did not want one of His children to perish and it broke His heart that some would choose to deny Him, others betray Him and most miss Him altogether.

Remember this Holy Week how deep His love is for His children, like the shepherd for His flock that He lovingly tends each day...

You Tend Your Flock

(Isaiah 40:11) The sun is fading behind the trees now and there’s a place I’m supposed to be But the fog is rolling in like waves, slowly covering and drowning me. Somewhere is the familiar path that leads to safety, leads me home. But in the descending darkness my tired legs begin to roam. Somewhere not too far from here the gate is closing for the night. You are counting every head to see that each one made in home alright. But tonight there’s one wandering lamb who forgot to watch for Your lead. Now I find myself alone and scared. I find myself in desperate need. Against the briars and jagged rocks at first I begin to grope, but the world spins around me as I lay down my head, give up hope. I lay down in defeat to die, unable to keep up the fight, until in the darkness of despair a familiar voice breaks through the night. Could this really be the One I love, come to carry me back home? But aren’t You angry at my mistakes, at my tendency to always roam? Why You would leave the ninety-nine for one alone I cannot see. Why would You risk Your own life for a worthless lamb like me? When You find me at last, shivering in the cold night air I see joyful tears in Your eyes and I understand why You are there. I am not just another lamb in a flock of nameless sheep. I am like a precious child You promised You would always keep. You gather me into Your arms, forgetting all I have done wrong and You carry me close to Your heart, for it is to You that I belong.

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Nicole T. Walters

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