The Shepherd King
I held the pages in my hand and began to read..........
“There is a King of old. He has many different names. He has countless angels who do His bidding. He is Love, and guides His own in the ways of Truth. He is a Shepherd – a Good Shepherd. He leads His flocks of sheep from pasture to pasture. There are always valleys to traverse, and sometimes enemies on every side, but He is strong and good. And He protects His own. You must walk in His ways and accept all that He allows in your life – the good and the bad, for He knows best.
You may be tempted to turn from following Him – but don't. Trust me. In the end you will be glad. You must be an overcomer.
I put these pages in my book with the other instructions. I got back on the path and started walking. It was rather uneventful until I turned to look behind, thinking I heard something strange. I saw nothing out of the ordinary, but I took a step without looking and fell into a pit and felt a sharp pain in my ankle. The pit was deep enough that I couldn't get out. The sun was beginning to go down and I knew what that meant. I tried to stand but fell back, unable to put any weight on my injured ankle. I cried as I took in my situation.
It surely did feel like the King didn't care. “He's giving me more than I can handle.” I thought. And just when I thought I had reached my limit, I heard a sickening sound....... coming from the corner of the pit. It was a hisssss. Snakes! “What will I do now?”
I started calling for help frantically. Then I saw a welcome sight: a head peeking over the edge of the pit, looking down at me. “Haloooooooo down there. Are you hurt? I'll drop a rope down so that you can tie it around your waist and I'll pull you up. Name's Dave – short for David.” The rope was tied to the horn of the saddle that was on the horse that slowly backed up until I was out of the pit. Once I was safely back on the trail, I looked him over. An unlikely sight to see. He wore a cowboy hat and faded jeans with a belt buckle as big as his fist. With a bandana tied around his neck, he wore chaps that were fairly well broken in, and boots with spurs that jingled when he walked. But seeing that I couldn't walk on my ankle, he picked me up, carried me to the side of the road where quick as a wink he pushed on the knotty bump of a tree, a door opened,and here was another safehouse!
Inside he found a first aid kit and wrapped my ankle which was swelling. He opened his backpack, pulling out a piece of bread with cheese – and an apple and gave it to me. He wore a smile on his weathered face and his eyes were kind – like the shepherd.
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
“To the town of Parkinson's Disease.” I replied.
He shook his head and whistled through his teeth, then said, “I hear tell that's a mean town. It's so polluted that there's no tellin' how your body will react. Dangerous too. The people are poor and unhappy. There's not much they can do for themselves.“ I hope you don't catch nuthin' - like their disease.”
Since I couldn't walk he mounted his horse and pulled me up to sit behind him. The horse's gait was very smooth. I held onto the back of the saddle. Curious to know, I asked, “What is your horse's name?”
“Abraham.” he answered, because he'll be the first of many. I'm hoping to breed him to my mares back home and have a mess o colts with his superior confirmation and sweet disposition. He's smart too.”
“Say, I can take you a few miles closer to Parkinson's Disease but I can't go much farther.”
“That's so kind of you. Thank you for the kindness you have shown me.” I said. We headed on down the road. I thought that though on the one hand, he was not at all like the shepherd or the man who rescued me from those demons (was he an angel?), on the other hand they were the same..................