A Fierce Guardian
At first, in my naivete, I saw the dog trotting up the slope of the hill toward our camp as a confused animal, thinking we were his Shepherd. The Shepherd disappeared hours ago. In front of us, hundreds of sheep meandered through the Juniper trees and brush on the other side of a seasonal creek. The dog stopped in the shade of a pine tree a couple yards away and settled comfortably in the grass, facing us. He leveled his dark eyes on us, exhibiting a strong, calm, but warning presence. The dog was between us and the sheep.
We were camped in the middle of the national forest two miles from a small, isolated lake near Williams, Arizona, on land often used by sheepherders and cattle ranchers. The area is our favorite place to camp on weekdays when everyone else is at work. The only sounds that break the quiet here are the wind rushing through the treetops, the occasional off-road vehicle, and, at night, the melodious song of coyotes echoing off the mountains and hills.
The first time we met this flock of sheep was years ago, driving on another dirt road behind our current camp, headed to a trail we had never hiked. Hundreds of sheep covered the roads, and a Shepherd wearing a multi-colored poncho stood in the middle of them. We waited, and he signaled for us to move when the sheep were off the road. But now, we met the flock’s protector, and the Shepherd was nowhere to be seen.
While I mistakenly called the dog a Sheep Dog, this one might be called a “Livestock Guardian Dog.” Breeds include Great Pyrenees to a Maremma Sheepdog. The dogs are friendly to their Shepherds but fierce towards strangers. It’s not a dog you want to pet if it approaches you. The tender but fierce heart of this Guardian Dog reminded me so much of how the Lord loves and leads us, even in how He disciplines us.
“He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.” (Isaiah 40:11, ESV)
Charles Spurgeon wrote, “No creature has less power to take care of itself than the sheep; even the tiny ant with its foresight can provide for the evil day, but this poor creature must be tended by man or else perish.”
I am constantly reminded of how small and fragile I am when I stand at the base of a great mountain or beneath the face of thousands of stars in the night sky. Nothing is guaranteed in the world I live in with all its bills, uncertainty, stress, and fears – not the food on our table or the clothes on our backs. Like Arizona monsoons, our future always seems to have threatening clouds looming large on the horizon.
One thing is constant:
“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” (Psalm 27:13-14, NIV)
The Guardian Dog made a perimeter around our camp, marking spots, stopping momentarily to sit behind us near our tent. He would rise again and continue marking spots in an almost perfect circle. Before he lay down to watch us again, he gave us a look. It felt like, “Stay within this circle. The sheep will stay outside this circle.” He sat down and continued watching. To our horror, the flock of sheep began moving towards us, but the dog set boundaries to protect his flock, keeping an eye on those who may hurt his sheep.
A Livestock Guardian Dog is introduced to a flock as a puppy and imprints itself upon the flock, creating a lifelong bond. The way the dog made a perimeter to protect the sheep and give us a certain amount of freedom to wander reminded me of Jesus’ discipline.
Jesus will sometimes receive our prayers with a ‘no’ that feels unfair. He may fence us in for our own good. What we want is sometimes not healthy for us. Because He loves us, He won’t give us everything we want, but He will provide us with everything we need and some left over to help others.
While in a faceoff with this Guardian Dog and wondering if the dog would get violent, I had to do some quick research on how to act in this situation. Livestock Guardian Dogs have a relationship with the sheep, where they learn to obey the dog. It can be painful until the sheep learn how to obey.
“Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it—not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it—they will be blessed in what they do.” (James 1:22-25, NIV)
The flock moved closer to the perimeter, the tinkling of their bells more like a warning now where it once added peace to our camp. The dog moved away from our camp as the flock moved towards the dip between the hills behind us, but I noticed as he tarried behind the flock, some now back near the seasonal creek below us, a smaller sheep limped to catch up with the flock.
The dog patiently stayed behind the lame sheep, ensuring its safety.
“When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon, son of John, 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.’ He said to him a second time, ‘Simon, son of John, do you love me?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ He said to him, ‘Tend my sheep.’ He said to him the third time, ‘Simon, son of John, 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 everything; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.’” (John 21:15-17, ESV)
As the bells faded in the dusk of another day ending, and the sheep and the dog were no longer in sight, I took a deep breath. My husband put together the fire for the night, and I got up to prepare the food. I pointed to the empty field below us and said, “There’s the Shepherd.”
The Shepherd had returned with his smaller sheep herder dog. As the sun was about to set, he strode across the field, climbed parallel to our camp, and vanished into the mountains behind me, going after the sheep to lead them home.
“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27, ESV)