Shearing

Years ago, in the sheep barn at a county fair, I saw a dozen men compete to be the fastest to sheer a sheep. They had electric shears. Each man worked rapidly, holding the animal to the floor. The heavy wool rolled off in dense, thick mats. When the sheep came to its feet, there were spots of red from small cuts on pink skin. It was so with all the men, until the last. He was old and spoke to the sheep he would sheer, then set it on the ground and began, in long, slow motions, still talking. When, at length, the sheep was shorn and on its feet, there was nary a knick or scratch. The gathered people applauded softly as the old shepherd stepped from the ring to claim no other prize.

Go in peace to love and serve The Lord!

Josh