Roaring Lamb

It's that time - 5 minute Friday. For only five short, bold, beautiful minutes, let your mind and your words and your heart fly free; wild – no editing, no over thinking.

ROAR

Sheep are in my blood. At least, that's what I discovered visiting my ancestral home in Scotland. Mist rolls over the ever green fields and thorny, yellow thistle bushes while sheep dot the countryside. Colored markings adorn their thick, woolly sides. Black faces peer out from a bundle of wool later to be converted to scarfs, coats, and gloves.

Sheep are nondescript - silent as the night and as unexciting as a game of cricket, but they do their job well. They bundle together when their master comes calling. They eat and sleep and eat some more and produce wool for the world.

Lions, on the other hand, only exist in zoos in my world, but I love to watch them. Mighty maws stretch open in a yawn, revealing teeth that could strip a gazelle in seconds. Manes adorn their faces like a crown, and they slink from place to place as if they know they are royalty.

Their is nothing dull about lions. They quietly slink up on prey, and then announce their presence when necessary. I can't help but better understand the analogy of sheep and lions in the Scripture after spending three weeks surrounded by sheep in the British Isles. Though we are called to follow our shepherd, we're also called to boldness. And I wonder, when the time comes, will I be inconspicuous, content to dot the landscape, or will I behave like a child of the king and roar?