Today would have been my Dad’s 66th birthday. He wrote this when he was 40. He died a year later. He was pretty awesome.
A Shepherd in Sheep’s Clothing:
Why can’t I walk, God?
And why can’t I play?
And wrestle the kids at the end of each day?
Why can’t it be like it always was before?
Why can’t I play tennis, or run anymore?
I don’t understand, God,
And the price is too steep.
Then the echo came back:
Just go feed my sheep.
Easy for you, you’re a shepherd by trade
A rod and a staff, and you’ve got it made…
You seem to forget, that I was also a sheep.
A sacrificed Lamb; the cross, too, is steep.
And all that I ask for your role to be
Is that when people see you, they also see me.
Because, Bob, we’re together while climbing this hill;
We’re living each day, seeking God’s will.
A miracle is happening, and Joy follows sorrow.
But we need a perfect vantage point from which to view tomorrow.
Your weakness makes me stronger,
And my strength is all we need.
By my stripes you’re healed already
So let’s find a flock to feed.
Bob Ivey – 8|5|46 – 7|11|88