Menu

BLOG

True Shepherds

Ezekiel 34:7–16

During the many years of my husband’s illness,  my daughter and I spent more time in hospital waiting rooms than anywhere else. While my husband was in surgery or critical care, we’d settle into those stiff chairs with our knitting bags and a quiet prayer. The rhythm of the needles steadied our breathing while we waited out the latest medical crisis.

People who would drift toward us; drawn by the clack of the needles. “My grandmother used to do that,” they might say. Or, “That’s so pretty. What are you making?” Then would come the confessions and the concerns. A mother waiting for her son’s test results. A husband clutching his wife’s wedding ring. A grandmother praying her granddaughter would wake up. We never advertised anything. We were simply knitting. Yet people sensed they could come close. Drawn by our companionship and the yarn. And more often than not, we ended up praying with them.

Looking back, I realize we were shepherding without knowing it. God was scattering our small gifts — yarn, presence, prayer — into the lives of strangers who needed a gentle place to land in a hard season.

In Ezekiel 34:7–16, God confronts the false shepherds of Israel — leaders who fed themselves instead of the flock, who used their positions for comfort, power, or gain. They let the sheep wander, weaken, scatter, and fall.

So God makes a stunning promise:

“I myself will search for my sheep and look after them.”

If the shepherds won’t do it, God will.
He will gather the scattered.
He will bind up the injured.
He will strengthen the weak.
He will rescue the lost.

This is not a distant God. This is a God who steps in when leaders fail — and ultimately, in Jesus, becomes the Good Shepherd who knows His sheep by name.

It’s easy to read Ezekiel 34 and think only of the “bad shepherds” out there — the flashy TV ministers chasing fame, the leaders who build platforms instead of people, the voices that promise blessing but demand loyalty.

But Jesus doesn’t let us stay in the bleachers.

He sends us into the world the same way He sent the disciples — not as spectators, but as shepherds. We are not victims of hapless preachers. We are accountable, called, and commissioned.

Most shepherding is quiet. It looks like:

  • Listening when someone needs to talk
  • Praying with a stranger in a waiting room
  • Checking on someone who’s been missing from church
  • Offering comfort to a person who feels scattered or alone
  • Using your gifts — knitting, cooking, fixing, teaching — as a way to gather people toward God

God scatters our gifts like seed. We never know where they will land or whom they will comfort.

This week, ask God to show you one person who feels weary, scattered, or unseen. Offer what you have — not perfection, just presence. A text. A prayer. A meal. A moment of kindness.

You don’t need a title to be a shepherd. You just need a heart willing to follow the Good Shepherd into the places where His love is needed most.

Closing Prayer

Good Shepherd, scatter our small gifts into the lives that need them. Open our eyes to the weary and the wandering. Make our presence a place of comfort, our words a source of hope, and our actions a reflection of Your tender care. Lead us as we seek to lead others toward You. Amen.

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Linda Cobourn

Linda Cobourn picked up a pencil when she was nine and hasn’t stopped writing since, but she never expected to write about adult autism and grief. When her husband died after a long illness, she began a remarkable journey of faith with her son, an adult with Asperger’s syndrome. The author of Tap Dancing in Church, Crazy: A Diary, and Scenes from a Quirky Life, she holds an MEd in Reading and an EdD in Literacy. Dr. Cobourn also writes for Aspirations, a newsletter for parents of autistic offspring. Her work in progress, tentatively titled Finding Dad: A Journey of Faith on the Autism Spectrum, chronicles her son’s unique grief journey. Dr Cobourn teaches English as a Second Language in Philadelphia and lives with her son and a fat cat named Butterscotch in Delaware County. She can be contacted on her blog, Quirky, and her Amazon author page. 

PRAYER REQUEST

CONNECT