One year ago, spring was springing. The grass had just begun to poke up. Yellow dandelions dotted our yard, and the irises were shooting up once again.
In stark juxtaposition, smoke filled our once-blue sky as wildfires raged across our state.
And there we were, placing new fence posts and stretching wire across a dilapidated section of our north fence.
Perhaps the timing could have been better, but we were preparing for new arrivals to our little acreage in a matter of days.
Grieving an unexpected loss, and with the siren call of spring’s invitation to bring forth new life, I jumped at the chance to purchase three bottle-fed lambs.
Did I have any idea what I was doing?
Absolutely not.
Had I given up “the internet” for Lent?
I sure had.
Did I have faith in our ability to “just figure it out?”
Absolutely.
By “our ability,” did I mean my husband’s life experience, numerous skills, and his uncanny ability to learn new things on the fly and fix just about anything?
Yes, yes I did.
Sleep has long been a struggle for me.
It sounds simple, sure: lay down, close your eyes, and your body pretty much does the rest.
Well, this body likes to wake up around 3AM.
Or 1AM.
Or anytime that is Sleeping Time.
And then I’m just…awake.
For hours. I used to stress about this. I used to try to force myself back to sleep.
Ha.
To quote the 90s icon Cher Horowitz, “As if!”
Eventually, though, I learned to accept it for the gift that it can be.
As an introvert, quiet time to myself is like delicious, life-sustaining water. As a homeschooling mama of 3, I often feel like I’m living in a desert.
So for years now, I’ve used these hours to pray, to plan, to read, and to follow whatever my hyperfocus-of-the-moment happens to be.
Well, overnight on March 13-14, my hyperfocus was those three Katahdin lambs.
How I ended up reading the passage I’m about to share, I truly can’t remember. But I know this: God very clearly impressed it upon my heart.
The passage is from John 21:15-19. In case you’re unfamiliar with it, let’s read it together:
15 So when they had eaten breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me more than these?”
He said to Him, “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.”
He said to him, “Feed My lambs.”
16 He said to him again a second time, “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me?”
He said to Him, “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.”
He said to him, “Tend My sheep.”
17 He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me?” Peter was grieved because He said to him the third time, “Do you love Me?”
And he said to Him, “Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You.”
Jesus said to him, “Feed My sheep. 18 Most assuredly, I say to you, when you were younger, you girded yourself and walked where you wished; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish.” 19 This He spoke, signifying by what death he would glorify God. And when He had spoken this, He said to him, “Follow Me.”
Now, the context here is unspeakably beautiful. This conversation takes place after the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the son of God, before His ascension into heaven.
After Peter had denied Him three times.
And here, Jesus restores him.
For every denial, Peter is given the opportunity to reaffirm his love and loyalty.
There is so much more to glean from this passage, but that night, God was impressing three particular sentences on my heart:
“Feed My lambs.”
“Tend My sheep.”
“Feed My sheep.”
As the meanings unfolded, I understood that each command was tied to a very clear, practical application in my life.
“Feed My lambs.”
Actual, literal lambs—the three bottle-fed lambs we were days away from bringing home.
“Tend My sheep.”
Encourage, serve, love those around me well.
“Feed My sheep.”
Volunteer in our church’s Food Pantry.
Within a month, all three had become a reality.
I was bottle-feeding three precious lambs.
I had begun volunteering at our church’s Food Pantry.
And I was recognizing a calling I had already been living out without fully appreciating its value: intentionally reaching out to encourage, serve, and love those around me.
Now here we are, one year later.
What a road it has been.
There has been joy and grief, frustration and victory, surprises and setbacks. And yet the road stretches on toward the horizon, promising more of the same.
At Potter’s Sheep, I hope to share glimpses of life on our little homestead, along with reflections on the lessons God is teaching me through this life He has so clearly called me to.
I am very much still a shepherdess-in-training.
But thankfully, I have a Shepherd who never forsakes me—One who continues to care for me as I seek to care for others.
Of course, that still leaves one important question.
I share the story behind the name next:
Potter's Sheep 
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