Thursday, November 12, 2009

Job 3:1

I've been pretty depressed lately. Actually, I've never felt so bad in my life than right now. Please pray for me. I don't mind you checking up on me either by the way. *hint hint*

Where briars grow, unwary sheep,
Befogged by hungry need,
Entangle fleece in thickets where
We only thought to feed.
The Shepherd comes to set us free
From snares of piercing thorn.
Released, we are made whole, but look-
The Shepherd's hands are torn.

On every bare and rocky height,
His sheep in safety graze.
God shelters us from wind and rain
And from the sun's bright blaze.
The Shepherd pastures us in peace,
To living waters leads.
All hurts now healed, we are at rest-
But see, the Shepherd bleeds.

For He has other sheep than these,
Who have not heard His voice,
But when the last are gathered in-
The heavens will rejoice:
The saints who crowd the gates of God
Stand waiting to extol
The last sheep found, for then, ah! Look -
The Shepherd is made whole!

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