Abandoned at Birth

It was early in the morning, Christmas Day. I arrived on the scene, dropped onto the ground with a plop. It took my breath away, the breath I never knew I had. One moment I was in the dark, warm inside my mama, kicking alongside my brother. The next moment, he was gone and I was alone. Once he was gone, it really allowed me to move around a bit, at least for a little while. But where did he go so suddenly?

Soon, after brother left me, I just settled back into my warm, cozy place, drifting off into another dream in the darkness inside mama. But before long, pressure started building against my body, squeezing me. For some reason, my feet and nose were pointed toward a tiny opening, a space that seemed too small for me to go through. But the more mama pushed, the tighter I could feel the opening around my neck, head and feet. And then, just like that, within minutes, I could see some dim light, although mostly still darkness. And it was cold!

That’s when I hit the ground, in a field, in the cold of winter. I began breathing, but the cold air I was sucking into my warm lungs felt like sharp icicles. I gasped for breath as I cried out. I began squinting through the warm, sliminess that used to surround me inside mama, but now it seemed like I just had yuckiness all over me, which quickly began making me cold. As night became morning, I shivered and looked around in the cold, but nobody was there. As I wiggled and squirmed around on the ground, trying to figure out how to use my long, stilt-like legs, I just couldn’t seem to get moving around very well. And where was mama and brother? I just cried.

There I was, on the ground, in the cold, expecting to find someone that looked like my four-legged self, someone like me. But they never came. Then, all of a sudden, something or someone did come. It frightened me at first, but then I began to hear a soothing voice, one I had heard so many times before as I grew inside my mama. The voice came near, and then I could see movement. Who was it that belonged to that voice?

I learned pretty quickly that the voice was more than a voice. It was someone that was kind and soothing, that picked me up and talked to me. I was afraid and alone and scrambled to look for something or someone similar to me. Even though I heard the bleating of other sheep nearby, voices like my own that spoke my language, none came to my rescue. Finally, I caught a glimpse of mama and brother not far away! Excitement welled up inside me, they had finally arrived, my family! But mama never came near. For some reason, all she cared about was my brother. I could see him doing something funny underneath mama, poking her underside with his nose as he stood there strongly, tail happily wagging. It really seemed like something I should be doing too, but mama wouldn’t allow it as she roughly shoved me away.

In a short while, the someone with the soothing voice, my shepherd, carried me to a small little enclosed place, somewhere animals once lived. It was nice to get out of the open field and the wind, but oh how it stunk! That’s when I discovered my nose, and how I loathed the smell of that place. While a former hen house may not have been the best place in the world to be, the shepherd had brought me, mama and brother to that tiny, dark place to help us get to know each other better. Even though it smelled bad, I was pretty happy when the shepherd held my mama still so I could poke mama’s belly with my nose, just like brother had been doing.

Even though I couldn’t understand why mama was fighting the shepherd so much, making it hard for me to get my nose under her, I was so glad when he got her to stand still. That was when I discovered that in addition to my nose, my mouth and tongue also worked. As I poked mama with my nose, I discovered a little place hanging down that fit right into my mouth. I didn’t know exactly why, but when I got my mouth moving and started sucking, I discovered the most amazing substance on earth – mother’s milk!

I really didn’t know what I was doing, but the more I kept that sucking and nose-poking motion going, the more my tummy liked it. And the coolest thing was, there was another one of those mother’s milk faucets on the other side. So, as the shepherd held mama, I completed my first lesson in how to eat. Pretty soon the shepherd left, closed the door and back in the darkness I was with mama and brother. The more I tried to be next to her, though, the more I discovered the pain of her head thrusting against mine. Even when I would walk on my spindly legs over to my brother to say hello, mama would shove us apart. So, I eventually laid down in my corner while mama and brother rested together a short distance away from me.

There on Christmas Day, during my first day of life, the shepherd came back a few more times to check on us and try to get mama to eat some kind of weird stuff. Milk seemed like a great thing to me at that point, but mama ate those little pellets he gave her like they were pretty tasty. She could have it as far as I was concerned! The shepherd would catch mama each time he came, and when he got her steady after a huge wresting match, it was time for my feast, at least whatever brother had left for me. But it was good, nonetheless.

After a little over a day of my new life seeing the light of day, my mama was just not having any of that nonsense with the shepherd, or especially me. After a day and a half of the shepherd coaxing mama to like me, she just would not go along with it. So, at the end of my second day, the shepherd came, but instead of fighting with mama, he just came straight to me and crammed something funny in my mouth. It seemed somewhat similar to those milkers under mama, but not exactly the same. Even though it felt awkward in my mouth, I tasted something that was almost like my mama’s milk, and it was warm like hers too! So, I just sucked to my hearts content. It was pretty cool, too, because it came into my tummy faster than it did from mama. That night I slept pretty well, me in my corner of the henhouse and mama and brother in their corner.

On day three of my life, first thing in the morning, there was my new best friend, the shepherd, arriving with a warm bottle for me. I ran right over and after a bit of struggle I began drinking in the shepherd’s milk as fast as I could go. It was gone in no time. In my confusion, and longing for more, I would poke the shepherd in his knees with my nose, but would get no results. Later that day me, mama and brother got to escape the henhouse and eventually meet the rest of the family, including Papa. But the flock didn’t seem to know what to do with me either.

As each day went on, I would follow the rest of the sheep around watching them put their noses to the ground to eat, but it didn’t make much sense to me. They also ate some old, dry grassy stuff called hay that the shepherd brought out for them, but that didn’t appeal to me either. Nevertheless, I would hang out with my big new family all day, watching them eat their big sheep food. I tried to get to know the other lambs, but I really just wanted to be friends with the shepherd.

During my first week of life there was some more growth happening in the flock. I learned that another mama had twins just like us, but the thing about it was, she wanted both of her lambs. I didn’t care, though, because I was starting to get used to everyone. Even though it confused me to see my brother and those other twins eating whenever they felt like it, I had my shepherd. When he came out several times a day with his magic milk machine, I would come a runnin’! And, because I was special, I got to be held by the shepherd and listen to his voice, close up.

Later in the week another mama in our flock began trying to give birth. It was on a day that was even colder than the day I was born. For some reason, that new mama just kept having problems and the shepherd moved us all away from her. The shepherd and his wife and daughter tried to help the new mama deliver her lambs, but after a long struggle, they were both born, dead. The shepherd had moved that mama into the henhouse, the same place I had spent my first couple of days earlier in the week.

After all of the commotion around that mama and her babies dying, I was finally happy that the shepherd was coming to feed me. Here he came, through the gate to feed me as I happily ran to him meeting him halfway in the field. But there was one problem – he didn’t have his luscious milk bottle. Instead, the shepherd scooped me up in his arms, which made me happy. He talked to me a lot, which I enjoyed. It made me think he was taking me into his warm house, where he had taken me a few times before. But this time we weren’t going to his house. For some reason he was taking me back to the dreaded, stinky henhouse. There it was, time for me to eat, no bottle and I was being carried to the henhouse. It was there that I discovered the lonely sheep, the one we thought was the next new mama. Problem was, she was not a mama anymore.

The shepherd talked to me as he held me, and he also talked to the lonely sheep. He managed to get the lonely sheep to stand still, but I didn’t know why he was doing that. I just wanted my bottle. Instead of a bottle, the shepherd shoved me under the lonely sheep. Even though I had gotten used to the shepherd’s bottle, I was hungry and I could see two opportunities for dinner hanging right in front of my face. So, I began to do what I do best, eat. The lonely sheep didn’t like it much, especially when I would poke her hard while eating my dinner. Oh, that sweet mother’s milk, once again passing through my mouth and into my tummy. And even better, the really good stuff that comes out right after lambs are born. I was in lamb heaven!

After a good session of slurping down my dinner that evening, the shepherd didn’t take me back to the flock. He left me in the henhouse with the lonely sheep. She seemed very sad and wouldn’t eat her feed or hay that the shepherd had given her. So, we spent the night together. I’d been there before, so I knew the routine. I slept in my corner and she slept in hers.

Next morning, at first light, here came the shepherd, no bottle again. Hmm, that was confusing for me as I ran up and pecked his kneecaps, but he easily captured lonely mama, held her still and I enjoyed my breakfast. Even though lonely mama was sore and weak, she didn’t seem to mind so much me having breakfast. Through that day, Sunday, the shepherd came out several times to check on me and lonely mama, to teach her to like me. I liked her just fine so long as she stood there and let me eat! And she eventually began sniffing me and licking me a little.

The day I turned a week old, after I had been locked in the henhouse with lonely mama for a day and a half, she began to perk up a little and eat some of her feed and hay. And, better than that, she began to really like me. The problem was, I really liked the shepherd, too. Each time he would come, though, he was harsh with me and didn’t talk much, and kept pushing me toward lonely mama, who wasn’t so lonely anymore. By the end of that day, me and lonely mama weren’t lonely anymore.

There was one problem, though. I wouldn’t listen to new mama when she called. I had gotten used to the shepherd’s voice. Even though my new mama had taken me in and was taught to feed me and love me, I was still confused. The shepherd kept me and new mama in a field by ourselves for another day, but when I was nine days old, me and new mama got to be introduced to the entire flock. When the gate was open, all of the other sheep and new lambs came rushing around us. Even my old, mean mama came over to see what we were all about, but the adoption had been completed, I didn’t need her anymore.

New mama was now mama to me. She loved me and I loved her. I even listened to her when she called, especially since there were so many mamas and lambs running around in our flock. But me and new mama were two peas in a pod. She needed me and I needed her.

Oh, and as for the shepherd? Well, he still comes out each day to see us and bring feed, water and hay for the big sheep. I still love to hear his voice as he talks to us. He has been careful not to pick me up, though, because somehow, he knows that my new mama is loving me in a way that he can’t, and he doesn’t want to get in the way of that.

Now, after two weeks of an adventurous life, I am doing well. I love my mama, but I still love my shepherd, too, because I know he looks after us. And I really love the sound of his voice. He’s a pretty good shepherd.

The events of this story took place on our little farm, as told through the eyes of a newborn lamb, lost, dirty, left to die through unexplainable events. I am David, the shepherd.

Perhaps you are lonely, feeling abandoned, dirty, a mess. You don’t have to be alone in the cold and left to die in what seems like a lonely world. There is a true Shepherd, the One who comes to help the hurting. His name is Jesus.

When you are lonely, you don’t have to be alone. The Good Shepherd is there, ready to pick you up, rescue you and bring you to safety.

“My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me.” John 10:27