The Lost Sheep

Today the gospel reading at mass was about the shepherd going out to find the 100th, lost sheep of his flock. I am the 100th sheep being carried back to safety on the shoulders of my Good Shepherd. I am hungry, thirsty, and frightened. I am filthy. My wool is wet, caked with mud, matted, smelly, and loaded with burrs. My pelt may be of little value next shearing, since it is so dirty. Yet, the shepherd still seeks me out. I am not a pleasant creature for the shepherd to have to carry. The heat of my body and my coat makes him sweat all the more as he struggles to find safe footing among the rocks on the hillside. But He is MY shepherd, and there is more rejoicing in heaven at my having been found than by all of the other 99 sheep who were not lost.

And Fr. Timothy's words still ring in my ears. We think there is a place reserved for us in heaven just because we go to mass, or pray the rosary! How I need the grace of that mass and rosary so that I can be repentant and humble! Good Shepherd, carry me on your shoulders today to the place where you wish me to be.



We are having company today, so I am making cracked wheat bread. I forced myself to add in almost all of the  flour before turning the dough out of the pan and kneading it. After resting the dough was very nice to work with. I did not have to add any additional flour. I am expecting this to be my best cracked wheat bread ever!