The day had arrived. The newborn lambs that I began bottle feeding in March had grown big enough to head to market. As the sun came over the horizon, my regular morning chores included some extra play time in the pasture, a few pictures snapped by the hubby, one last combing of their wool, and a few final hugs before the trailer backed up to the door of the barn. As Littlefoot, Andy, and Olive were sorted from the “herd”, panic began to set in. I use the term “herd” quite loosely since the remaining lambs amounted to two younger ewes, Peanut and Annie. The older lambs boarded the trailer reluctantly, but it was the little girls that became hysterical.
Crying and bleating, I was certain that Peanut was going to jump the fence. I released them from their confinement into the pasture, filled their feed troughs with grain, and put out fresh hay to try to calm them. Nothing worked. For the next hour they raced from the pasture into the barn and back out again, running in circles, climbing up the rails of the fence, and all the while crying, crying, crying.
I wanted to cry with them. Not only was I a little sad to see the other lambs leave the farm, but I could relate to the depths of their distress. Their frantic baas were the sound of my soul.
Life has been stressful, challenging, and draining. My heart breaks, my head hurts, my emotions are raw, my soul feels dry. And I find myself bellowing the words of the ancient song writer in Psalm 13.
1 How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?
3 Look on me and answer, O Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
4 and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
I added my own lyrics…
How long, O Lord? How long?
How long will this virus rage and disunity spread?
How long will our hugs and handshakes be forbidden and our smiles masked?
How long will truth be silenced and lies run rampant?
How long will relationships be broken and hearts remain hard?
How long will you look the other way?
How long will you sit on your almighty thumb and let the enemy steal, kill, and destroy?
How long, O Lord? How long?
BAA. BAA. Baa. Baa. Eventually the lambs calm down, as does the shepherd girl, and the song writer…
5 But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation.
6 I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me.
It’s okay to cry out to the Lord. It’s good to get real with our heavenly Father and bare our soul. But don’t stay in panic mode. There is hope.
5 Why, are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. (Psalm 43)
Erin Jacobsma