You are my body,
I am counting on you.
I need you to do for me there what I cannot do here.
I need you to love, forgive, meet and at times reject who shows up.
You cannot imagine you are hearing me correctly,
but you are.
Separate the care I ask of you from the need of yours to save.
Do this by prayer in the fringes of day.
Do this by rest under the stars;
by the light and rhythm of my moon.
I am asking you to tend my flock.
My flock comes with willingness, and eagerness, hunger;
you will recognize by sense more than sight who I bring as they respond to my call, not yours.
I am guiding you to not lose your way.
Do not let others distort or define you,
or my message, by territorial rights.
This is a spiritual truth which means true for all;
personal yes, exclusive no.
I am entrusting to you the fields I have marked as yours.
They are circled by fences built with crossbars of love and respect;
anchored by posts dug deep into the earth.
They are not too big,
nor too small for what I am asking of you.
They are not fertile but for the grass that grows to nourish souls and the season.
They are not yours in deed but by lease there is plenty,
for now and for all of the days of your life.
You are my body.
I am counting on you to be shepherds,
and the lamb of my fields.
This is the song of the shepherds;
listen for the call of yours.
Listen for Me.