Thirty minutes ago, I decided to do a little writing. My ancient laptop takes several minutes to turn on and load up before I can open the browser, then another few minutes to load the website and move from link to link to reach this page where I can type up this post. So, I pressed the power button and walked away to retrieve my notebook from downstairs. As I reached the living room, I figured I had plenty of time to finish putting away the clean dishes which for some reason I’d only halfway done before my shower. In putting said dishes in their cupboard homes, I noticed how badly the trays in the silverware drawer needed to be washed. So I emptied those trays, made some soapy water in the sink, and washed them up. Next, I thought I really should comb out my hair since it was wrapped in a towel atop my head. My hair combed, I remembered my notebook still stowed in a bag in the living room. Reaching that room yet again, I noticed how hungry I felt as the noon hour approached. I thought I ought to have a snack or I’d end up with a headache as I so often do. Selecting something from the pantry, I headed back upstairs and promptly remembered my notebook again.
Now, here I sit. My dishes put away, silverware trays washed, hair combed, a bag of trail mix sitting beside that finally retrieved notebook, and my brain scrambling to recall the thoughts that prompted me to write in the first place.
Oh, how the fallenness inside me feeds on distraction. How busy the enemy of our souls prefers to keep us. I had a single thought on the goodness of the heart of God, followed by a thought of sharing that truth with you, and that enemy knew exactly what to do. Distract! Detour! Show her all the lesser matters that could have her attention, and convince her they deserve to have it!
No thanks to me and all thanks to the Holy Spirit, I do remember what prompted the urge to write though. It was a compilation of thoughts that have accumulated for three months now. Ever since the church’s celebration of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in late June, I keep returning to these matters. On that mid-summer morning, I sat down to read the scripture passages for Mass and found myself surprised and a little perplexed. I expected straightforward verses on the love of God, or perhaps on the nature of love itself.
God is love. Love is patient. Love is kind. Faith, hope, and love remain, and the greatest of these is love. For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son. All of these seemed obvious choices for the day’s readings. Instead I found a theme I did not predict: the Good Shepherd.
The first reading was from Ezekiel 34. While I have long been familiar with and fond of the Gospel passages about Jesus as the Good Shepherd, I tend to forget that His claim on that title was a direct fulfillment of God’s portrayal of Himself in the Old Testament. It is a portrayal of both tenderness and leadership.
I myself will look after and tend my sheep…. I will rescue them from every place where they were scattered when it was cloudy and dark…. I will lead them…. I will bring them back… and pasture them…. I myself will give them rest, says the Lord God. The lost I will seek out, the strayed I will bring back, the injured I will bind up, the sick I will heal, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy, shepherding them rightly (Ezekiel 34:11-16, edited).
This is not a distant, aloof God. This is a dedicated, leading, determined, caring God. And this is the same God who spoke in that day’s gospel passage, inviting the citizens of heaven to rejoice with Him over the repentance and restoration of a single one of His beloved flock (Luke 15:6-7).
The Sacred Heart of Jesus, the seat of His love and mercy, is the heart of a shepherd – of the Good Shepherd.
A couple weeks ago, we celebrated a beloved saint, St. Pio of Pietrelcina, mostly known as Padre Pio. He spoke countless wise words in his lifetime and one of my favorite quotes is a favorite of many: “Pray, hope, and don’t worry. Worry is useless. Our merciful Lord will listen to your prayer.” I imagine that if Padre Pio shared such advice with any of the men and women who sat before him during the up to 10 hours of daily confessions he used to hear, many of them would have asked ” how?” How do we not worry? How is that possible?
When I asked that question myself in prayer, the Spirit whispered immediately, “Because you are cared for by a shepherd with a perfect heart of love.”
A shepherd does not let his sheep wander where harm awaits them. He provides boundaries that do not restrict but rather clarify where they are provided for and safe. When his sheep do stray, he does not write them off and abandon them. He seeks them out. He combats the peril they’ve walked into and restores them to where they belong. The shepherd keeps watch. The sheep do not need to worry. They need only remain in the presence of their shepherd.
Do not worry. The One who watches over you never sleeps. (Psalm 121:3-4) Do not be afraid. The Lord who loves you is your rock, fortress, refuge, and shield. (Psalm 18:2) Cast aside anxiety and undue stress. He leads you to rest and restoration. (Psalm 23:2-3)
Do not worry. You are loved and led by the Good Shepherd.
Carrie In Writing 