A Precious Lamb

When I first admitted to myself, to God, and to another human being that I had been sexually abused, the world screeched to a jarring halt.   Wave after wave after wave of emotional pain washed over me.  I lost track of the painful days, of how much time had passed.  I stopped estimating how many more painful waves were waiting ahead of me, surrendering to the distinct possibility that the end would never come.  From the outside, life went eerily on.  But inside it was like I was watching an old black and white TV while someone unknown to me was screwing with the vertical and horizontal knobs.

Then one day I read Isaiah chapter 40 and a single phrase lit up in my heart like a distant lighthouse in a foggy night.  He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart.  I was that lamb, nestled in my true Father’s arms, my head resting contentedly on His chest.  At that moment I believed I was going to make it.

The same week a friend taught me a simple song that I still can’t sing through without choking up:

day by day

you reveal your love to me

cradled in your arms

I am

a precious lamb

a diamond in your eyes

The word picture painted by that song is always with me.  A love letter from God, tattooed on my Spirit.  And while I know that I may never fully understand the love of God, never grasp it’s width or measure off the height of it, I know that I Believe.  I believe that He is Good; that He Loves me nobly and unselfishly with no secret agenda; that when I can’t keep up with His long strong strides He will scoop me up again and whisper to me to rest in the safety of His warm embrace.  And that knowledge is enough for today.

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2 thoughts on “A Precious Lamb

  1. I really like this post. There have been several times in my life when I’ve had to admit to myself, God, and another human being some things that I had held inside. I thought holding them inside was best because they didn’t seem as real when they were mine. To allow someone else to know seemed like it would just give them that much more power. I found that telling someone else actually took much of the power away … eventually. One instance involved something done to me, another involved something I was doing. After they were out in the open the shame seemed greater than ever, and it’s like you said, I finally just decided that the pain would never end … and I vowed to keep my secrets to myself from there on out. The lifting of the burden didn’t come as immediately as I had expected.

    But eventually I learned to use both circumstances to my advantage and to the advantage of others. I learned to let my experiences build me into something stronger … and to allow me to help others who were carrying the same burdens. I could help them by showing them that God’s promises are true … no matter what. If I decide not to believe … they are still true. If I feel the opposite of what He intends … they are still true. If they world were to fall down all around me … they are still true. He will hold me … forever.

    The Great Shepherd will “lift my head” (Psalm 3) and carry me close to His heart like you mentioned. I had to learn to believe that promise inspite of my feelings.

    Again, thank you for this post. God as my Shepherd is my absolute favorite picture of Him. I have to remember how precious I am to Him … no matter what I feel.

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  2. I’m so thankful this post meant something to you. It’s always shocking that the things which isolate me from the world – which make me feel like an alien – are echoed and understood by my fellow humans when I share them. Shedding light on the truth steals the power of the lie. Thank you for sharing your thoughts today.

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