Her eye was bad, right from the start. At first, it seemed that it was just a bit bleary, but over time it was clear that something was wrong. There was always some crustiness caked around her wool-rimmed eyelid. She was the most timid in the flock and this grew, or rather worsened as the months in the paddock passed. Lambing time came and went, and she did not give birth. There was no little lamb for Lizzy.
At feeding time Lizzy would often get squeezed and pushed away from the trough. Soon enough, even the spring lambs were getting more to eat at the trough than Lizzy. She would walk over to the gate forlornly, or so it seemed to me, and she would look out, as if to ask for more. I took to feeding her separately. I'd fill the trough, and save the best for Lizzy, leading her away from the flock to eat out of a bowl I had made just for her. I tended to her eye and checked her hooves and whispered words of affection in her soft, felt-like ear. I love her more, because she is weak and poor.
Because God made man in His 'image and likeness' we see so many of His attributes in ourselves. Is this not how God's heart is also. Does not our littleness, our weakness, our poverty, draw down upon us His love in a special and more abundant way? How wonderful! There are two things that I draw from reflecting on this fact. First, how Good God is. That He loves the weak and lifts up the lowly, is such a deep mystery that we see echoed throughout history. Praised be God! And secondly, it completely changes how I think about weakness and poverty. Indeed, it makes me glad to weak and poor. To need, like dear old Lizzy, a little extra food, and to have words of love whispered into the ear of my heart.
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