Stop Counting Sheep

There's nothing worse than an earworm from a song you can't stand. That's what bored into my brain the other night: "Chevy Silverado" by Bailey Zimmerman. I don't even know how it got in there, because I usually change the channel or turn the radio down whenever it comes on. But there it was, on repeat, and I couldn't shake it. Now, if you like that song, that's okay. Have at it. That's why they make chocolate and vanilla ice cream. You like what you like, and that's cool. I'm a vanilla guy.

So there I lay, not sleeping, with that brain poison looping in my ear. So, I did what I usually do on a sleepless night. I started reciting Psalm 23 in my head. The Lord is my shepherd...

I learned that practice during an extremely dark season of my life. It helped me fight the devil in the dark. I memorized it out of necessity, not piety. There's peace in remembering that He is with me wherever I go, even when I'm the one who put myself there. Most nights I rarely get through it twice before I'm back asleep and the noise is drowned out.

But this time I got stuck on one word: shepherd.

It's easy to read that word with a soft, pastoral glow. But in David's world, shepherding was dirty, lonely, unglamorous work. Shepherds slept outside, smelled like the animals, and were often the lowest on the social ladder. When Samuel came looking for Israel's next king, Jesse didn't even bother calling David in from the field. He was just the lowly shepherd boy.

Yet that's the job God chose to describe Himself. And centuries later, Jesus picked up the same picture:

That verse cuts both ways. It tells me I have a shepherd, one who gave everything for me. And it shows me what kind of shepherd I'm supposed to be for the people entrusted to me.

One of my favorite books on this is “The Way of the Shepherd”, by Kevin Leman and William Pentak. It's a short leadership parable built around an old rancher teaching a young man how to lead people the way a good shepherd leads sheep. Here are some takeaways that have stuck with me.

Our need for a shepherd

• We're more sheep than we'd like to admit. Sheep wander, spook easily, and don't see danger coming. On my sleepless nights, I recognize this in myself pretty quickly.
• The Shepherd knows us by name. He knows our condition, our wounds, and our tendencies before we say a word.
• His staff guides and His rod protects. "Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." His correction isn't rejection. It's rescue and direction.
• He doesn't leave when it gets dark. The valley of the shadow is still a valley we walk through, with Him beside us.

Our responsibility to shepherd well

• Know the condition of your flock. (Proverbs 27:23) Know your people, not just their output. Ask questions. Pay attention. Love them like a friend.
• Discover the shape of your sheep. Every person has unique strengths, heart, personality, and experiences. Put them where they can thrive.
• Help your sheep identify with you. People follow leaders who live out their values with integrity and genuinely care.
• Make your pasture a safe place. Sheep won't settle where they feel threatened. Remove the fear, the chaos, and the unclear expectations.
• Use the staff to direct. Give clear direction, set healthy boundaries, and gently pull people back when they drift.
• Use the rod to correct and protect. Correct without crushing, and protect your people from what would harm them.
• Have the heart of a shepherd. Shepherding isn't a technique. It's a way of life, and it always costs something.
  
  

Remember, you can't be a good shepherd until you've let yourself be shepherded. The leader who never kneels before the Good Shepherd ends up either driving people like cattle or running from the wolves. But the one who knows he's been carried, corrected, and rescued in the dark leads with a different kind of patience.

Whether it's your family, your team, your friends, or the person who just needs someone to notice, you have a flock. And you have a Shepherd. Both matter.

And if an earworm keeps you up tonight, I know a Psalm that works better than counting sheep.