Can't See the Wolves
The Devil's Advocate just went off. Besides being a rather creepy movie, it's an amazingly accurate metaphor for what the Accuser does when he's working (which is all the time). And still, as I sit here at 3am on Sunday morning (because I've habitually been up too late in recent nights), I am reminded of the beauty of God's plan, as crazy and outlandish as it may seem to the rest of the cosmos. Sheep among wolves we are. The Lord said so, and the movie quoted it, albeit with something of a lack of context. But I see myself, at least at this quiet hour, as a sort of blindfolded sheep. If I actually saw all that was going on behind the scenes, I think I'd poop my pants. Imagine the shepherds in the fields of quiet Bethlehem. This is the po-dunk town with one stop sign and a Dollar General. The nearest Walmart is in Capernaum. Home of King David is painted on the water tower, along with a crudely scrawled "Joab was here." You're out in the middle of your swing shift (no, scratch that, your every-shift) job with a few buddies. You hear a sheep turn in its sleep and go to make sure that it was just the sheep you heard. You're trying your hardest not to fall asleep, but the cheap Mickey D's coffee is wearing off. It's cold, with the only exception being that uncomfortable hot-and-cold sweaty feeling you get when you're staying up way past your bedtime. All's quiet but the song of the crickets. Suddenly a glowing guy appears out of nowhere and has the audacity to tell you not to freak out. He gives you and your Seriously-Freakin'-Awake-Now friends some news and then, as if one wasn't enough.....they all come out. The sky opens up and your quiet night turns into a bright chorus of the loudest, most beautiful, most terrifying thing you've ever heard. It vibrates your very mind, your very soul. And then.........it's gone. And the sheep heard nothing. And the crickets are still chirping. Another sheep turns in his sleep and 4:30 rolls around. Were you dreaming? Were you all dreaming? They saw it too. Is that possible? Then you feel your heart flutter again and remember. We gotta tell somebody.
You see, for just a minute, these few shepherds got a peek behind the curtain. A glimpse of what few ever see this side of death. And the first thing that Gabriel said was don't piss yourself, it's just me (or something to that effect). I think that's one reason we're blind to much of what's really going on. Still, as I look over my wife's sleeping form and follow the curve of her spine with my eyes, it's such a blessing to be made the way we're made. We are given so much that is precious. Tomorrow, I'm sure I'll feel differently as I struggle to stay awake on the drive into town, but for now, I'm glad to be a blind sheep.