That expression just took on a whole new meaning

Good morning, Blogosphere!

For those of you who have been following (high five to you!), you know that I am currently living and working on a farm in Suan Phung. The past few days on the farm have been both interesting and challenging. I have enjoyed getting to know the people around this area and it has been fun to work so closely with so many animals. During my time here, I have also learned several important lessons. In accordance with the widely-accepted standard Rule of Threes, I shall share three of them with you. 

Lesson 1: Pigs are pigs. 

Growing up, I've often heard the expressions you eat like a pig, you sleep like a pig, and you're such a pig. Before this week, I would have chuckled casually at those insults and placed them in the same category of digs as the very elementary you're a dumb butt and your face is stupid. BUT NOW. I can see the true level of offense that is meant with those expressions. Not a joke. When you see and hear a pig eat or sleep, those expressions all take on a whole new meaning. It is truly, truly disgusting. I will never again use the aforementioned insults lightly.. I will only use them heavily and deliberately on the occasions that I really want to hurt you.

(Lulu being disgusting)

At the farm, we currently have one pig. Her name is Lulu and she is a hard-core vegetarian. She is also a supreme escape artist. In the four days that I have been here, she has escaped from her pig pen twice. Do the math-- that's one escape for every two days. Impressive for a stupid smart pig, eh? And also, for those of you who are thinking to yourselves, well, if this pig keeps escaping from her pen, why don't you guys fix the fence?, I say this to you: we do keep fixing it, but every time we wire up one break in the fence, she manages to Houdini her way out of a new one. Today's escape was her most impressive stunt yet, since she somehow managed to wriggle her fat ass out of a small gap in the fencing above her water bowl that was so small it was barely a gap at all. Whenever Lulu escapes from her pen, Arnon's (he owns the animals on the farm and he is amazing and he likes to sing) greatest concern is that she might get hit by a car while trying to cross the street. For the rest of us on the farm, our worst worry is what will happen to us when it's time to catch her to return her to her pen. If you have never participated in the art of catching a pig before, you cannot ever even know. It is a horrific endeavor involving nets, biceps, writhing dirty pink flesh, and the most horrendous screeches and wails you will ever hear. When we had to catch Lulu yesterday, I felt the way that all of the wizards and witches standing in the Gryffindor common room did when Harry Potter first opened the golden egg on dry land during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Once Arnon had Lulu tangled in a net, she erupted in the loudest most gut-wrenching squeals, screaming bloody slaughterhouse and twisting her body around in an exorcism-style twirl. It took three people and many half hours to catch her.

Lesson 2: The mosquitoes always win. 

It doesn't even matter what you do. As humans, we so often foolishly tell ourselves that we stand a chance in this war against mosquitoes. That's why so many of us continue to spend money on bug spray, mosquito repellent, mosquito bracelets, mosquito nets, mosquito coils, mosquito incense, and mosquito candles. Once the sun begins to set each day, we hurry to change into long sleeved shirts and long pants and socks and close-toed shoes. But I can assure you that all of these battle preparations are in vain. The reasons for this are three-fold. Firstly, people always think that sundown marks the beginning of the war against the mosquitoes, but the truth is that while you were running around in the blazing sun in your tank top and shorts during the day, the enemy has already launched their first attacks and you're already losing by the time you reach for your long trousers. Secondly, in the game of numbers, the odds are truly never in your favour; you're you, and mosquitoes are trillions at all times. Thirdly, their battle strategy is infinitely better than yours. I mean, I don’t actually know what their strategy is, but yours is to slap yourself repeatedly all over your body, so..

Lesson 3: The Biblical imagery of sheep and their shepherd really does illustrate something important.

Having grown up attending church, I am familiar with the many passages in the Bible that talk about sheep and their shepherd. I was never confused by the comparison that was made between sheep and their shepherd, and people and Jesus. But while working on this farm, I have witnessed for the first time something pretty incredible about sheep. On my very first morning here, I, along with the other volunteers climbed the fence into the sheep pen to brush and wash them. The three of us had been brushing the animals for about twenty minutes when Arnon joined us. As Arnon neared the pen, he yelled out a greeting to us, and the sheep immediately rushed towards him in an excited frenzy of bleats and jumps. My immediate thought in that moment was Wow, sheep really do know their shepherd's voice. John 10:2-5 says 

The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger's voice.

Arnon let the sheep out of their pen for a few hours that morning to let them graze in the nearby fields. Early in the afternoon, he asked the volunteers to herd the sheep back into their pen. We struggled with the task immensely. The flock traveled closely together, and whenever we tried to get near one of them, they would all dart away together. After several minutes of non-progression, Arnon picked up a staff, walked towards us and quickly led them home. He laughed as he closed the gate of the pen behind the last sheep and said, "I don't know why it always seems like only I can do this." I thought to myself, it's because you're the shepherd. 

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. (John 10:11 NIV)

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (Psalm 23:1-4 NIV)  

After a few days here, I can now also attest to the truth of the rest of these verses. Arnon really does know every sheep by name. He really would lay down his life for his sheep. He really does guide them with his staff. He sleeps with them when one is sick. And he really does make sure that every last sheep is brought home.

(The sheep out for the day)

Seeing a good shepherd in action is truly refreshing to my soul. So often I struggle with understanding God's love for me. I sometimes feel that his love is a distant, generic one, and that while he cares about me, he couldn't really, really care about me since he has so many others to worry about as well. But now, the significance of Jesus calling himself my shepherd and calling me his sheep is becoming clearer. To witness the intimacy between a shepherd and his flock reassures me that Jesus keeps so near to me. Close enough to be able to tell when I'm not feeling well, and close enough to fend off any attackers before they destroy me. And he speaks to me constantly so that I can better learn and recognize his voice. With his voice he leads me and comforts me. I am one of many sheep, but I am not just one. The distance that Jesus would go to bring me home still amazes me and I am thankful for this particular lesson as it serves as a reminder of my Abba Father's great love for his people.

Love,
-bcl.