The Garden of Lambs

How has it come to be
That You would seek the services
Of this weak and wayward soul
Whose portfolio of failures past
Should remove me from future's call?
How am I the one to tend Your flock?

What manner of wisdom so strange
Would drive You to place your words
Inside the heart of this vanishing mist?
And not just for my own personal profit
But that I should be chosen to nourish those
Whom you have promised an overrun cup?

Though, I should not find myself at a loss.
Could you even find a shepherd so able?
A pool of candidates so frail and fraught,
Soaked with the memories of pain and grief.
Can any among them be expected to rise
Above the Valley of Shadows in which they walk?

And yet, for reasons beyond my worth
You bestow upon my life the weight
Of minding Your garden of lambs;
Called to care, tasked to train.

So today, I bring but two requests:
Strengthen my legs and bridle my tongue.
I accept the mission of loving Your sheep
And take up the mantle of caretaker true.
I offer my will so stubborn and strong
To the Shepherd of shepherds; in Him I belong.

Pastor Scott