Wounded Lamb

The service had begun. Everyone's head was bowed in an attitude of prayer. My eyes were open, searching, for what I really wasn't sure. I love to let my eyes wander across the sea of people. His people. Everyone standing like statues, some sincere, some remembering a forgotten item on their grocery list. 

It was in that moment that I spotted him, that moment of quiet. He could not be still. Something was shattered inside of him and he could not let this silence calm him. He was a broken one. Rejected. Hurting.

I wanted to walk right over to him and fix him. He was a foster child, sharing a home with another family that was not his own. He had been passed around like the offering plate. Very little had been dropped in when he passed by. 

When I spotted him he was twisting and turning and talking to himself. He wasn't trying to be a bother to anyone else, he just needed to keep going. That was it. He had to keep going or he might not be able to go on. 

Tears filled my eyes and began to roll down my cheeks. In that moment of prayer I spotted a lonely heart and intercession began to pour out of me like a river. I had met this young one before, but I had been oblivious to it. I don't know how I missed it,  he wore rejection like a garment. A weight came over me, a heaviness too big to carry, a regret that didn't belong to me. Suddenly I was wrapped in this little man's need. 

That glimpse became revelation of this little guy's heart. In that one moment I picked up a lamb to lead to the Shepherd. Physically he remained standing in his place, but spiritually he was in my arms and we were on the way to the Father. And for all the weight of him, he was not heavy. My want to take him there would provide the strength I needed to get him there.

That was the beginning of a journey. It has been over a year now and every time that young one comes to mind, I extend my arms to the Father and say, "Your lamb, Father, heal your wounded lamb." 

The little guy doesn't know that when I see him sitting clear across the church and it is time to greet others, that I walk all the way to where he is so that I can encourage him. He shakes my hand and walks on to greet the one next to me.  He doesn't know that the Father and I are talking about him. He doesn't know how much I am on his side and I don't know if he ever will. That is how intercession is, carrying in secret the burden of others to the One who can help. 

The Lord has a plan for the little man in this story. I am believing that the end of his life will be better than the beginning. I am believing that the Lord is going to create a family circle around him, one that is so strong it will never be broken.  I am believing for the kind of family ties that bind everyone together in such a way that when one passes on they remain in the other's hearts forever. 

And we will be his church family, loving him, teaching him, ministering to him, and believing for him. I believe we are going to witness a restoration, and the broken little man who was will only be a memory to the complete man that he is sure to become. 

Because He Lives!

Cheri