THE SHEPHERD’S SHEEP

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want,
He grants me rest from my weary pant.
In quietness, He brings me salvation,
His Word gives me insight via meditation.
With His mighty hands, He leads me along,
In every wave and storm, I have a song;
Singing it boldly that I have a God,
Who has great respect for His Word.
He is the covenant keeping Father,
I love Him dearly and seek no other.
Before the world began, He appointed me,
He had declared that His prophet, I’ll be.
Thus, though I walk through the valley of death’s shadow,
The brow of His guidance for me will never furrow.
Should I falter like the wave of the sea,
His rod and staff then comforts me.
Chastising me back to His will,
Knowing Him as God by being still.
Afterwards, if I go hungry,
He sets me a table before the enemy.
His poured holy oil flows from my head,
Making me the enemy’s dread.
Looking behind me, I see grace and mercy,
Following me patiently, never in a hurry.
I therefore give myself to God my father,
Dwelling in His presence as a son forever.

‘Bayor Martins © October 2002