In some ways our age is arbitrary, not that the past years are for naught or the future ones are futile, but arbitrary in the sense that a measurement of time is not the sole indicator of progress or purpose. It has taken me over forty years to realize how fragile my perception can really be. And I can only assume another forty will only further the urgency to take myself even less serious. But time will tell, or maybe not.
We live through the many ceremonies, defeats, and fears that our lives inevitably bring. However, there is a conviction that we have not made ourselves. Thus, the fear of death or public failure or even accomplishment is overshadowed by an awareness that God might actually exist. And further, He might be on to us. The self obsession, like a rabid wolf, needs violently forced off the land as we need to return to a path that exists outside of time. We learn to submit. Though we feel exposed and vulnerable, the path worn into the side of the hill leads to waters that outflow the best wells we could ever dig up ourselves. But time will tell how many broken cisterns we leave behind us, or maybe not. Maybe we will actually submit to the shepherd. When God created the cosmos, He created the hills and the sheep. And on these hills He carved out a path, clear and worn true. I am only repeating what the writer said in Psalm 95, “For He is our God, And we are the people of His pasture and the sheep of His hand”, and Psalm 100, “Know that the Lord Himself is God; It is He who has made us, and not we ourselves; We are His people and the sheep of His pasture.” And they were only repeating what Jesus would say, “I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down His [own] life for the sheep.” (John 10:11 AMP).
We are not goats nor are we serpents. Though we might choose to live as such, we are sheep and we are meant to be herded. The worn path is narrow. It is narrow because salvation is a singular, personal experience. It is worn because Golgotha was bloody and necessary. And this is the path that exists outside of time. Time is a measurement and the worth of your soul or mine cannot be measured. This is good news.
We learn to submit. We must find the path that is carved over a thousand hills and through a thousand horizons. While it exists outside of time, the path is marked by lush meadows, quiet pools, a six course meal, and the security of a trusty shepherd’s crook. You are a sheep and you are meant to be herded. But time will tell, or maybe not.
