The Lost Lamb

My hubby, Mike and I enjoy hiking and exploring and take advantage of any opportunity to do so. A few years ago, while living in Montana, we often went to the mountains that surrounded where we lived. We frequently came across wildlife and long forgotten items left by people who’d gone before us. Things like machine parts we couldn’t identify, fallen in cabins that still held dishes used by the inhabitants.

One day shortly before sunset, as we wound up a hike, we spotted four bull elk coming from the woods near us. We watched them, then turned to head back to our car when I spotted a lamb. 

I pointed, “Honey, a lamb! What is he doing out here? Why does he have red paint on him?”

Mike turned and said, “He’ll be dinner tonight to coyotes or mountain lions if he’s not reunited with his flock.” 

We looked for a while to see if there were any other sheep, but spotting none, we tried to catch the lamb without success. Then my husband tried to call and lure the lamb. Still without success. 

I said, “He doesn’t know your voice, he’s not coming to you.”

We prayed for the lamb’s safety, and we got in our car and went to each ranch on the road back out to see if they knew who might have lost a lamb. We were told the red marking probably identified the lamb as belonging to a new rancher in the area. We asked if they could contact the rancher and tell them where we’d spotted the lamb. They told us the lamb had a worth of around two hundred fifty dollars — a high value to us.

Many times since that incident we have reflected on that day. 

We are his lambs, and before we came to know him, we didn’t listen to his voice. He considered us of high value and covered us with his saving blood — the blood that marks us as his own. 

 John 10:27-28 says;

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand.”