Some day in that Other Pasture, we’ll party
Dear Heidi,
In the middle of my workday, your sweet, little face has come to mind. It was a horrid story ,really, the kind I would rather scroll past. Ignore. To skim with a shudder, thinking, “So glad it’s not us,” and return to my happy, ordinary life.
With my four boys.
So much in my head right now. Thoughts of trains and separation. Of goodbyes, and tearing away. Of families asunder and orphans and lambs. And of a Shepherd who watches it all.
Your life will never be the same, little girl. In one long screech of the brakes, a whistle’s warning blast, the tearing of metal, they were gone, souls rising to heaven. On that ordinary Sunday morn, it was as though Mommy, Daddy, and your sisters three just boarded the train, and it carried them around the bend and out of sight, leaving you there by the tracks.
Lambs and shepherds.
Here’s what I know about a shepherd. The best kind has the welfare of the sheep first in his heart. His whole life’s devoted to their care and their keeping, and he loves with a tender affection. He gives the special-est and gentlest attention to the young and the weak, especially those without mommies. Or daddies.
He knows what to feed them. He walks in front and behind, and he’s got just the right salve for their owies. He keeps them safe from the big, hungry wolves, and he takes them to green pastures and still waters.For the resting.
Sometimes (and we never know just why He allows this) some of the flock is led away to a different pasture, and the ones left behind, they can’t see ’em. But the thing is, Heidi, the Shepherd stays right with those lambs. He keeps feedin’ and leadin’ and helpin’ and lovin’, and then one day, it’s time.
It’s time for those sheep to move on to that Other Pasture. You know, the one where those other sheep went to? It’s called Heaven. And in the Heaven-pasture, all the sheep families are together again, the ones who had followed that Shepherd. That Jesus.
It’s a really great day, like aaalll of the best birthday parties ever just rolled up together into one. Imagine balloons and confetti and princess tiaras and glitter and party hats and blowers and a jillion kinds of party cakes and treats with all of your family and friends. It’s like that, only better. And all the sheep up in that Other Pasture are so happy, they dance and sing and shout. It gets so loud up there that the angels have to cover their ears, but they’re laughing. And dancing and singing along.
And the Shepherd (did I mention this?) sings loudest of all. He’s clapping.
Oh, it’s a grand and happy place where they go. Where they’ve gone. Where you’ll go, and there’ll be a great party one day.
Until then, though, the Shepherd’s with you down here, and He carries you up on His shoulders. They’re broad and they’re strong, and you’re totally safe. It feels like your favorite blanket, His shoulders.
For now, just know that one of His sheep (that would be me) will pray for His lamb (that would be you) as the Shepherd brings you to mind. And one day, I’d like to share my tiara with you and dance and just throw some confetti. How ’bout that? ‘Cause Jesus is my Shepherd, too. And all’s well.
‘Til that day,
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