I want to crawl into your arms and cry a little. Please forgive me for not staying in the pasture. You are my shepherd. I am the sheep who follows you home at night instead of staying safely in the fold. I have escaped and stand by your door and belt incessantly, waking you.
You take me back to the fold, but I find no rest. I wandered through my souls dark night, past dragons and wolves and angels and demons seeking the door to your home.
I cannot bear to be apart from you, my Shepherd King. Please open the door and let me lay warm beside the hearth fire of your own room. Let me live closer than your skin. Allow me to know the secret scent of your inner chambers.
Do not ask me to stop seeking you. Cas
“1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:
for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”
Cheryl Reeves Writing - from my shelves of journals 