The wounded black sheep look into the stain glassed windows, and say,
and then tell the testimony of their painful experiences.
It is heart-rending,
and speaks of hate and closed-mindedness,
bullying and abuse,
anti-intellectualism and brainwashing
their tender souls have endured.
The defensive white sheep come out baying,
"Not me, not my church!
You want a license to sin!
You won't listen to the truth!
See, this world just wants to believe what isn't true!
They're beholden to evil!"
Scared, defensive, white sheep,
that's not the way of your Shepherd.
He goes out into the night to save the one, leaving behind the many.
He welcomes the runaway with a feast.
He lets the little ones come to Him freely,
He lets their grubby fingers caress His garment.
He does not blow out smoldering wicks or break bruised reeds.
He dies and rises being misunderstood and unbelieved.
It's up to Him to find black sheep in the wilderness.
Trust that He will.
When He hears their stories of pain,
His Tender Heart breaks open for them
and the blood flows out towards them,
pouring over the roots of the trees
pooling around the meadow flowers
and baptizing their small, dark hooves.
Tidy white sheep, as much as your heart can be like His,
do not fear to take to heart the words of those
with whom you disagree.