“…When he saw Jesus, he fell at His feet.”
This morning, I made my daily visit to the lambs in their pasture. The two lambs that have become very dear to me made their usual little trots over to where I sit to watch them. Baa-ing their sweet welcome, they were soon checking out if I had any treats for them. I settled into a shady place in the old, weathered chair we leave in their pasture for such visits. And it almost never fails that, as I sit quietly watching them, and listening for my Good Shepherd’s quiet words to come to my heart, I will have a very clear thought that I can begin “chewing on” as I spend some quiet time with those sweet, funny lambs.
Watching the usual sheep activity – mostly chewing grass (them – not I!) – I realized that one of the orphans (Autumn) had settled on the ground touching my feet. She just laid there chewing on the grass that she had eaten. The other lamb (Easter) came to my side, making it clear that she just wanted to be scratched around her ears and on her head. Both lambs simply stayed right there, peacefully looking around and soaking up the time together.
I couldn’t help but think about several times the Bible mentions someone “sitting at the feet of Jesus”, and the encouragement for us to do that. What was happening at my own feet was the sweetest, dearest little taste of what that experience is like. The two lambs were not looking for any food or treats from me. . . they were simply, contentedly at my feet, enjoying the touch and presence of being there with each other.
Is that how Jesus wants it to be between Him and me? Between Him and You? Just being quiet and near. No words were necessary. There was peace. There was a sweetness in that simple space. The lambs were no different than any other day . . . no adjusting of themselves, or requirements in the shared Moment. The same was true of me . . . it was just one of those special, unplanned moments, when I sensed that God was giving me a taste of the sweetness of simply being together with Him. The world did not stop turning . . . the annoying little gnats did not stop bugging us . . . but that all faded as that unplanned Moment surrounded us.
May we learn to simply be content resting at His Feet, sensing His Presence, His Care, His Touch.