And mark the pangs of the Shepherd’s quest. He “goeth into the mountain and seeketh!” The Eastern shepherd goes out in tempest, and in rocky ravine, or in thorny scrub that tears the hands and feet, he seeks and finds his sheep. And my Lord sought me, in stony and thorny places, in the darkness of Gethsemane, and in the awful desolations of The Hill.
And the Shepherd found His sheep, and He returns across the hills singing the song of the triumph of grace—
“And up from the mountains, thunder-riven,
And up from the rocky steep,
A cry arose to the gates of heaven,
‘Rejoice! I have found My sheep!’
And the angels echo around the throne,
‘Rejoice! for the Lord brings back His own!’”
JANUARY The Twenty-second
MY OWN SHEPHERD
Psalm xxiii.
OW shall we touch this lovely psalm and not bruise it? It is exquisite as “a violet by a mossy stone!” Exposition is almost an impertinence, its grace is so simple and winsome.