THE GOOD SHEPHERD
I wonder, when Jesus held the lost sheep in His arms
Do you think there would be sad words of rebuke?
I do not think so, not even one frown or harsh look,
But a gentle caress then He’d speak words that calms.

When He searched long and hard in the heat of the sun,
I am sure he did not grumble as He looked everywhere,
Or blamed the sheep or muttered as He hunted here and there,
But just patiently worked until His valiant work was done.

Now look! He comes rejoicing carrying home that lost sheep,
Tears of joy I am sure freely flow down that divine face,
As the sheep He carried into the fold that sure and safe place,
As He places the sheep lovingly in the fold at last to sleep.

Sleep in restful slumber, for that sheep has returned to the fold,
Resting in the knowledge that the Lord loved His flock well
Enough that he would search the road to the gates of hell,
Just to save a wondering sheep and to his breast gently hold.

I know of His kindness, know of His loving tender care,
For I felt Him carry me as He brought me to the fold,
Eased my sins and burdens, gave gifts too many to be told,
He is the true Good Shepherd, for He is always there.

M Ann Margetson © August 14, 2001