‘I know you won’t be able to do anything, but can I just talk to you’, were the words of a student who came to see me this week.
She’s right in so many ways. So often doing something is not an option.
It was a bit like that when we came across the Ewe yesterday on our walk in Derbyshire. We weren’t the first on the scene. Another walker called us over. The Ewe was on the ground and a dead lamb was protruding from her rear end, its eyes pecked out by crows. How long she had been labouring we didn’t know. The other woman went to the nearest farm for help and I sat down on the grass by the ewe’s head to keep her company while we waited. I dripped some water from a bottle into her mouth and her grey tongue emerged to lap it up. She opened her eye, a milky yellow and gave a quiet bleat. For the next half an hour I sat like that, giving her the water, patting her neck and talking to her gently. From time to time she’d flex her front legs or bleat as another contraction passed along her flank. There was nothing else I could do. For all those times I’d seen lambs delivered on TV programmes I’d had no direct instruction and wouldn’t risk a wrong move.
Another couple came by with some relevant direct experience. He examined the Ewe and with the help of his companion pulled the lamb out. Holding it at arms length he bought it round to the head of the Ewe so she could see for herself the outcome. She sniffed it and bleated. A small pile of placenta and poo steamed on the grass.
We waited a bit longer. The first walker came back from the farm with less than good news. The Ewe was owned by someone else. The other two walkers were more local and knew a farmer across the valley. They rang him and he promised to contact the owner. ‘A sheep will drop down dead anytime it likes’, said the walker who had delivered the dead lamb, as he wiped his hands on the grass.
The Ewe was trying to stand, and two people helped her to her feet. Her back leg was injured and she put it down carefully, tested it and the walked gingerly away. We also left leaving the local couple to wait in the field.
As we resumed our walk Bob asked me what I’d been thinking. Of Jesus saying ‘Feed my lambs’ and of being a good enough shepherd. Just being there, listening, lapping up the love of God.

In our life and our believing
The love of God