Sheep-ish

There's something about the metaphor of Christ being the Good Shepherd that just gets me. I love imagining me, a little lamb, peeking out of His side satchel; His hands patting my head, His arms holding me close.

Today I taught a lesson in church. The title of the lesson was "Feed My Sheep." The counsel came from President Ezra Taft Benson, the prophet of the Church a while back. He challenged us to shepherd those around us--to guide them to Christ's fold, love them, care for them, and feed them spiritually (and physically, if need be). I thought then of this story from another Church leader, John R. Lasater, about his experience with a shepherd in Morocco:

That's why this metaphor is so cool: because its mortal counterpart is so exact! Real shepherds do love their sheep. Real shepherds do know their sheep by name. Real shepherds never give up on their sheep, no matter how old or injured or broken they may be. For the good shepherds, each lamb is precious and priceless.

And He would die for us. He did. So He asks the same dedication and charity from us, His under-shepherds. He asks three times over, and many times more: Feed my sheep. We must be willing to answer.