I haven't been with this flock for very long. It was quite a journey to get here. But I've found an unexpected kinship in this new meadow.
We all have scars and scratches. I no longer need to hide mine! I don't think you know how that feels - To walk plainly around with the marks from your past, to feel safe. I know I couldn't have imagined how it could feel. I mean, how can a sheep like me have even imagine the feeling of freedom, peace, protection and acceptance if I had not lived the other side?
I wouldn't. I couldn't!
For a long time, I didn't even realize what was happening in my last flock. I do know I hated shearing time. My scratches and scars were revealed, but I couldn't explain how they happened. Nope. Instead the "Boss Sheep" would tell the others that I got greedy with some blackberry bushes, or that I became arrogant and wandered off into some fencing.
Of course none of that was true.
Truth is, the marks came from him. But I couldn't say that out loud at the time. I had seen the flock turn on others who had told truths "Boss Sheep" didn't like. That scared me. All I wanted to be is a good sheep - loved and appreciated. So I stayed quiet. ... for too long, I might add.
Eventually, I couldn't hide all the marks. The shepherd of that flock asked me what was happening. I tried to tell him, but before I could, the other sheep pushed me out. It wasn't gentle like an eviction notice or a "dear John" letter. It was violent. Emotionally, psychologically, and -yes- even physically violent.
Once I was pushed out, I could not come back. "Boss Sheep" made sure of that. I did think about trying, but then my injuries would remind me of the price. I knew I would be killed by the flock - if not "Boss" himself - if I dared return.
So I left.
I had no idea what lay ahead of me. The forest was thick. It was cold and dark and very scary. I had only ever been in the lower meadow. I was told it was paradise and that no other place on the earth compared. I believed them - and still wonder sometimes. You see, you just can't always escape the voices. At least I can't. But then the Good Shepherd found me. He told me he had been watching me the entire time - he had seen the abuse and knew the truth of who I was. He picked me up, bandaged my wounds, and carried me to the upper meadow.
That's how I got here. And, to my surprise, it's GORGEOUS. As it turns out, the lower meadow is NOT paradise after all! but I have to admit, it's not just the meadow we are in... You see, the Good Shepherd moves us around these hills and mountains. And anyplace we go with Him is awe-inspiring. It overflows with deep green grasses, bubbling brooks and a keen sense of safety and protection. So much so, I would describe the true paradise -- the true "perfect" meadow -- as anyplace the Good Shepherd leads us.
I love my new flock. They are SO colorful! We have sheep of all sizes and shapes ... in my last flock, you were to be only a certain color and size. With the exception of "Boss Sheep," of course, he was giant. There are sheep of all colors ... and I LOVE it! We all have scars and markings from our past. Some sheep are still healing (actually we all are), but the Good Shepherd takes such good care of us. One thing I adore here is that most us us sheep love the opportunity to tell the stories about how the Good Shepherd found us...
The stories are as diverse as we are. But we never cease to be amazed at how the Good Shepherd found us ... none of us found Him. He had been watching us - and not in a creepy way. In a loving way. A way that saw injustices. He had cried at the cruelty done to each of us. He came to us at the most perfect times... wrapped us up and carried us to safety.
We like to call this meadow "Misfit Meadow." This is our "home" meadow. Over the seasons, we are led to graze in different areas, but always return to Misfit Meadow. You see, none of us fit in our last flocks. We tried with varying degrees of success! But, ultimately, we were each pushed out.
That's the abbreviated version of how I ended up in Misfit Meadow... but there's a real story behind even that! Isn't there always?? I'm looking forward to sharing it with you - it's absolutely unbelievable now that I'm out of that flock and see life differently. I cannot believe what I believed! ... and I cannot believe the deception and cruelty I endured at the hands of my former flock. I am eternally thankful the Good Shepherd saw fit to remove me from the lower meadow!
We all have scars and scratches. I no longer need to hide mine! I don't think you know how that feels - To walk plainly around with the marks from your past, to feel safe. I know I couldn't have imagined how it could feel. I mean, how can a sheep like me have even imagine the feeling of freedom, peace, protection and acceptance if I had not lived the other side?
I wouldn't. I couldn't!
For a long time, I didn't even realize what was happening in my last flock. I do know I hated shearing time. My scratches and scars were revealed, but I couldn't explain how they happened. Nope. Instead the "Boss Sheep" would tell the others that I got greedy with some blackberry bushes, or that I became arrogant and wandered off into some fencing.
Of course none of that was true.
Truth is, the marks came from him. But I couldn't say that out loud at the time. I had seen the flock turn on others who had told truths "Boss Sheep" didn't like. That scared me. All I wanted to be is a good sheep - loved and appreciated. So I stayed quiet. ... for too long, I might add.
Eventually, I couldn't hide all the marks. The shepherd of that flock asked me what was happening. I tried to tell him, but before I could, the other sheep pushed me out. It wasn't gentle like an eviction notice or a "dear John" letter. It was violent. Emotionally, psychologically, and -yes- even physically violent.
Once I was pushed out, I could not come back. "Boss Sheep" made sure of that. I did think about trying, but then my injuries would remind me of the price. I knew I would be killed by the flock - if not "Boss" himself - if I dared return.
So I left.
I had no idea what lay ahead of me. The forest was thick. It was cold and dark and very scary. I had only ever been in the lower meadow. I was told it was paradise and that no other place on the earth compared. I believed them - and still wonder sometimes. You see, you just can't always escape the voices. At least I can't. But then the Good Shepherd found me. He told me he had been watching me the entire time - he had seen the abuse and knew the truth of who I was. He picked me up, bandaged my wounds, and carried me to the upper meadow.
That's how I got here. And, to my surprise, it's GORGEOUS. As it turns out, the lower meadow is NOT paradise after all! but I have to admit, it's not just the meadow we are in... You see, the Good Shepherd moves us around these hills and mountains. And anyplace we go with Him is awe-inspiring. It overflows with deep green grasses, bubbling brooks and a keen sense of safety and protection. So much so, I would describe the true paradise -- the true "perfect" meadow -- as anyplace the Good Shepherd leads us.
I love my new flock. They are SO colorful! We have sheep of all sizes and shapes ... in my last flock, you were to be only a certain color and size. With the exception of "Boss Sheep," of course, he was giant. There are sheep of all colors ... and I LOVE it! We all have scars and markings from our past. Some sheep are still healing (actually we all are), but the Good Shepherd takes such good care of us. One thing I adore here is that most us us sheep love the opportunity to tell the stories about how the Good Shepherd found us...
The stories are as diverse as we are. But we never cease to be amazed at how the Good Shepherd found us ... none of us found Him. He had been watching us - and not in a creepy way. In a loving way. A way that saw injustices. He had cried at the cruelty done to each of us. He came to us at the most perfect times... wrapped us up and carried us to safety.
We like to call this meadow "Misfit Meadow." This is our "home" meadow. Over the seasons, we are led to graze in different areas, but always return to Misfit Meadow. You see, none of us fit in our last flocks. We tried with varying degrees of success! But, ultimately, we were each pushed out.
That's the abbreviated version of how I ended up in Misfit Meadow... but there's a real story behind even that! Isn't there always?? I'm looking forward to sharing it with you - it's absolutely unbelievable now that I'm out of that flock and see life differently. I cannot believe what I believed! ... and I cannot believe the deception and cruelty I endured at the hands of my former flock. I am eternally thankful the Good Shepherd saw fit to remove me from the lower meadow!
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