lessons from a caramel frappucino

Hehe, did my title catch your interest? I learned that clever strategy from my junior high English teachers. "You need to have an eye-catching title to get people to want to read your paper!" Sooo... does that mean that if mine's boring, you won't read it, Mrs. Schmuck?(yes, I just addressed a video teacher :P) Cuz I would totally be ok with that. I never got why teachers make an issue with that. :P Anyway... back to my topic...

No I'm not talking about the coffee drink. I'm talking about the lamb I adopted for a week while we were in Baja. He LOOKED like a caramel frappucino, so I named him Frap. Every time I dealt with him, it reminded me of how God deals with us, and helped me understand so much better why Christ calls Himself the Good Shepherd and why we are sheep. I've always heard that sheep are stupid, but I never really knew how stupid until I met Frap. I met him minutes before I was supposed to be holding him in my arms on stage as if I was completely enamored with my new pet. The pastor drove in with Frap in his pickup truck, and Frap was freaking me out. He was jumping 6 feet into the air (give or take a few feet :P) and crashing his body into the pavement when he fell and bleating like crazy. I honestly thought he was possessed. I figured out later, that he was only like that because he was terrified out of his mind because the pastor's dog kept barking at him and he was in a new place. So, I did not end up holding him on stage as planned. Mr. Lovel had to hold him there during the whole skit, with Frap bleating over every line. Do we ever act like that? Act like we're about to die and freak out unnecessarily when some "dog" barks at us (that's a metaphor, btw) or we find ourselves taking to some new place and we don't like it? Do we slam our bodies into the pavement in  absolute hysteria and then complain because it hurt? I know that I'm kind of stupid like that.
Once I had completed my VBS responsibilities for the day, I wandered over to the area where Frap was tied up to see if the little brat had any redeemable qualities. One of our team members had suggested to me to take a firm hold of his side and then start petting him. So, as I approached Frap, he jerked away from me as far as his rope would take him, and when I kept coming, he strained the rope in every direction, as if it would suddenly allow him to go further if he tried it a few inches over. There was nowhere he could go to get away from me, and yet he tried desperately. Sound familiar? I took hold of him, pressing firmly into both his sides, and he stopped. Only then did I start petting him. Our Shepherd has to do that with us, doesn't he? He has to show us that He is in control, and that we're safe (and stuck, in a good way) with Him before He can show us the riches of His love. When I petted Frap and whispered calming things to him, he became silent and peaceful, and nuzzled into me and just rested there, and that gave me the greatest joy. I think Jesus feels the same way when we rest in Him and find peace there. He knows that it's best for us and that we're completely satisfied there, and that pleases Him.
I had brought a whole huge bag of sunflower seeds to feed him, because according to my research, lambs like them. But whenever I offered them to him, he almost never took them. When he did eat them, he liked them alot. But usually, Frap would ignore my gift and instead nibble at random dried-up weeds in his area, or even my hair! And after a while, he wouldn't be satisfied with them and he'd start complaining. I don't think I even need to draw the parallel between Frap and us here. It is quite apparent how often we do the same thing with God. He offers us good food, and when we eat of it, we love it. But so often we don't want it, and we chew at gross things that don't end up making us happy and then we wonder why.
When I would leave Frap, or when anyone would leave him, for that matter, he would start bleating again, and would not stop. It kept people up at night, and they ended up hating him. But anyway, he was lonely. He wanted nothing more than to know that someone was with him. Now, unlike me, God doesn't ever leave us, but I think there is a very important point to be made. Do we even notice if we're not in His presence? We're always in His presence, but if we're separated from Him, I mean. If we left Him, would we feel it? or would we just continue on obliviously? Would we bleat out the moment we realized we weren't near Him? I find that idea very convicting.
There were days that I didn't meet with Frap because I had been an invalid for some reason or another. And I worried that the progress I had made with him would be lost. But I remember after my first day-long separation, I came over to him, and at first, he started backing away again, which he did with everyone who approached him. But I started whispering to him, and the moment he heard me, he came to me. Does that remind you of a certain verse? He recognized my voice and he wanted to be in my love. I cannot tell you the joy I took in that. Are we like that when we hear God's voice? Do we want His love that much?
I have alot more parallels I could draw from that week I had with Frap, but this post is already really long, so I will end here. But if you want to understand Christ and His dealings with us in a really personal way, go adopt a lamb! ;)