Sometimes, after the echoing bells of New Year’s Eve have pealed no more, it may be difficult for the Christian to find spiritual fortitude in the sudden vacuum of the post-holiday season. Burdened by the anxiety of an unknown future and facing the bleakness of a long winter, many believers, like sheep, may find that their view of the Shepherd has been obscured by a cold, dark landscape where the promised green pastures and still waters are now buried beneath a shroud of snow and ice.
In this wintry state of mind where our warm hopes are sometimes chilled by the frosty air, perhaps we might rekindle our fiery faith in the Lord by remembering the work of every good shepherd who tends to his flock during the grey-skied northern solstice. Indeed it is in the centuries-old practice of the kind and gracious herdsman where we are assured, even in the seeming barrenness of the days, that provision has been made for us long before our needs have become apparent in wintertime.
Witness, for example, how the homesteader in America cares for his sheep through hard work and foresight. Having stretched out the grazing season into the winter by stockpiling grass in various meadows, he is pleased to call to his flock and lead them to untrodden pastures where grass, though dormant, is in abundance. By nature, this high stand of turf is like manna in an inhospitable terrain, resisting the covering of snow and ice so that the flock may easily find it.
These defiant blades of green, writes rancher Ulf Kintzel, “poke through the whiteness to entice the sheep to dig down to feed. The longer the grass, the more it will stick out and entice the sheep to make an effort to dig. Digging causes the sheep to burn some extra energy. It must be worth the effort. Also, ice will have a harder time forming a coherent sheet when there are bunches of grass sticking out. The ice breaks at these bunches and gives the sheep a starting point to dig.”
Indeed the difference between tall grass and short grass in wintertime is stunning, says Kintzel, and is a testament to the shepherd’s wisdom. “Short pasture may be solidly frozen while pasture with long grass will have very little frost on the ground. A snow blanket not only keeps the ground from freezing, but it also takes moderate frost back out of the ground.”
Along with this prudent cultivation, the good shepherd likewise leads his flock to a ready source of clean water and adequate shelter against the freezing winds. Fresh snow may offer sufficient drink as it falls like an ice-crystal tributary from the sky, but more steadfast refreshment is carefully secured by natural reservoirs and manmade troughs. Nevertheless, on many a cold morning, the diligent caretaker, with axe in hand, will be there to break up the persistent ice that stands in the way of thirst.
For shelter, says Kintzel, a thick hedgerow maintained along the pasture is all that is necessary to break the bitter winds and provide the “necessary animal comfort.” The wise shepherd knows that his sheep should be free to move about the field to warm their bodies, stretch their legs, and exercise their spirits — instead of languishing in the stifling confinement of a barn.
What more the flock could need for their protection, their watchful guide would surely provide, knowing that the peace he brings them by his sacrificial work will “surpass all understanding” and thereby “guard their hearts and their minds” from unhealthy stress, crippling fear or any other toxic foe against their satisfaction (Philippians 4:7).
In this amazing pastoral scene, then, the Christian should readily see a representation of divine provision that forthwith warms the heart of the believer. Surely, in appreciation of this display of kindness towards these beset-upon creatures, we must never lose hope as followers of Jesus when the cold of this world chills us to the core of our spiritual constitution. Even in the dead of winter, the great psalm of David rings true with the shepherd-king’s experience with the flocks of his youth:
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:1-6).
Here, according to C. J. Ellicott, is the perfect picture of the Christ-follower as a sheep of His flock, “safe under His care, absolved from all anxieties by the sense of this protection, and gaining from this confidence of safety the leisure to enjoy, without satiety, all the simple pleasures which make up life—the freshness of the meadow, the coolness of the stream. It is the most complete picture of happiness that ever was or can be drawn. It represents that state of mind for which all alike sigh, and the want of which makes life a failure to most; it represents that heaven which is everywhere if we could but enter it, and yet almost nowhere because so few of us can.”
To be sure, Jesus Christ, the great Shepherd of our souls, has aptly provided for all our needs long before we found ourselves in our desperate state as sinners in the winter of our discontent. “For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly. For scarcely for a righteous man will one die: yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die. But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:6).
Like lost sheep in the wilderness, we were once without hope, hungry and thirsty. And yet, even in that barren wintry land of sin and death, Jesus beckoned to us by name, saying, “Follow Me!” and soon we drew to Him to be guided by His rod and staff to greener circumstances. “I am the good shepherd,” He gently assured us, “I know My sheep and My sheep know Me… My sheep listen to My voice; I know them, and they follow Me” (John 10:14, 27).
As such, we now listen to His voice and follow His loving commands, knowing that God will supply all our needs “according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19). Henceforth, we are no longer anxious about the mysteries of the new year, nor are we fearfully asking in the poverty of wintertime, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For our heavenly Father knows that we need them all (Matthew 6:31-32).
As faithful believers, we no longer wonder how we might survive the spiritual tundra that hides God’s rich bounty under the smothering worries of this world. Our Shepherd has shown us the tall grass of His love that breaks through the icy burdens of this world. Indeed, by His redemptive work, our great Shepherd has given to us the green pastures of the covenant of grace with its blessings and promises (Hebrews 9:15), the shelter of His mighty wings shielding us from the cutting winds (Psalm 57:1; 91:4) and the bubbling spring of living water “welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14).
All that is left to do, as the snowfall blankets the pastures of our lives, is to dig down as His trusting sheep to feed and drink from His well of goodness with thanksgiving. Thus, we join with Paul in this prayer of hope:
“May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with every good thing to do His will” (Hebrews 13:20).
Yes, in times of uncertainty, it may feel as if we are treading on nothing but hard frozen ground in the valley of the shadow of death. Yet we shall continue on, trusting our Lord and Savior to lead us to meadows fit for the satisfaction of our souls (Rev 7:16-17). And soon, very soon, we will find ourselves once again renewed and refreshed among the fruitful fields and heavenly rains of God’s promised Springtime where righteousness and peace abide. “For behold, the winter is past!” (Song of Solomon 2:11).
