Lessons from Lammy: A Shepherd in Progress

I’m relatively new to the concept of five-fold gifting, but I’ve always had an internal drive to shepherd. Maybe you, too, have felt a desire to guide those around you, talk through scripture, and see them grow stronger.  As a journalist, I love learning how context and perspective shape situations. And I love sharing that information to help others understand, adjust perspective, and grow.  

Turns out, not everyone shares that passion. As I learn more about five-fold graces, I’ve reflected on my “shepherding” successes and failures over the years so that I can walk out that gifting more effectively. And then God reminded me of Lammy. 

Lammy was a sheep who lived in a pasture next door to my childhood best friend’s house. Judging by his name, you’re probably picturing him as a cuddly, petite creature. But you’d be wrong.  

Lammy was the biggest, fluffiest sheep you’ve ever seen. Not in a cute, cloud-like way, but in a way that made it hard for him to move. Lammy really didn’t like being sheared. And his owners didn’t enjoy being kicked. So you can probably guess how that played out.  

Scripture frequently compares humans to sheep. Like sheep, we have few natural defenses, tend to join the herd, and may flounder without intentional care. That sounds about right - myself included. These tendencies and vulnerabilities make the metaphor of Jesus as the good Shepherd all the more meaningful. But did you know that sheep can also be stubborn, individualistic, and strongly driven by their desires? Which sounds pretty similar to humans, too. When I think about my shepherding successes and failures through the lens of Lammy’s natural motivations, it helps me to put personalities aside and understand how I can use my gifting more effectively. 

1. Lammy was scared because he didn’t understand the situation. 

Growing fleece is the most natural thing in the world for a sheep. It’s literally a part of them. Having it removed is frightening - especially by a strange person with loud, buzzing clippers. Lammy had no clue the shearer was trying to help him. And just like Lammy, we need to build trust to help individuals understand what we’re doing. I’ve been able to shepherd my children and others with whom I am close, but when I’ve tried to guide others outside of a meaningful relationship, I find I’m often misunderstood. 

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. - 1 Corinthians 13:1

2. Lammy didn’t mean to hurt anyone. 

Lammy’s kicking was intended as self-defense, not an offensive strategy. And when hurting people lash out at us, many times, they are reacting naturally or responding in the flesh to what they perceive as an attack. Yes, their words and actions hurt just the same. But taking them personally doesn’t help the situation.  

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. - Ephesians 6:12

3. My personal experience didn’t make a difference to Lammy.

   
   

We could see Lammy from the pool where we cooled off during the summer, and that poor sheep looked miserable. While I was making whirlpools and playing Marco Polo, flies were buzzing Lammy’s ears, and his oversized wool sweater made it impossible for his little tail to swat them away. But, language barrier aside, my telling Lammy how hot I had been and how good it felt to cool off wouldn’t have helped much. 

Sharing our experiences can help us relate to others. But sharing too much can seem like we’re making the conversation about us rather than them. And sometimes our situations may be similar, but not identical. Sure, I felt hot like Lammy did. But I wasn’t being swarmed by flies. And he certainly couldn’t have jumped in the pool with us. Establishing common ground can be good. Relating like we fully understand is not. 

My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry. - James 1:19

4. Lammy changed when it made sense to him.

Thankfully, Lammy’s story has a happy ending. One day, he hurt himself (not the happy part). and the vet had to shear his hindquarters to treat him. And then a funny thing happened as mounds of wool disappeared: the crochety, cantankerous sheep learned that being sheared wasn’t so bad. He allowed himself to be fully sheared for the first time in years.

It can be painful to watch people suffer. But it rarely ends well when we step in before someone is ready. At times, I’ve taken action when the timing was perfect for ME, but not for the individual. And at those times, even the most thoughtful words didn’t make a difference. God’s ways are always better, and His timing is best. 

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. - Isaiah 55:9

It turned out Lammy wasn’t a huge, aggressive sheep. He was an average-sized animal who had let discomfort and fear build a wall around him. He needed guiding, not pushing. Many people we encounter in ministry are in similar situations.  When we remember that their reactions and responses are more about what they are feeling than they are about us, it's easier to let go of any defensiveness and ego and respond out of our gifting rather than our flesh.

Kristin Yarbrough, Worthy Content Writer/Editor