Shearings!

         Caterpillars have their cocoons. Snakes have their moltings. Sheep have their sheerings. It’s been sheering time here in the Lake District. Great masses of wool being rubbed off on fence posts, zoomed off with electric clippers, rolled off in the grass. All that wonderful, warming winter wool worked well for that day and time. Now the baking days require cool waters, deep shade, and thin skin.

For the first time in 30 years I sheared my beard. I guess this shearing thing is contagious. Not since the Air Force have I voluntarily de-bearded myself. Feels naked, it does. I want to slap a pair of underwear on my chin. I wander about with my hand creeping north to shield my face from others’ view. Anybody have a spare burka?

   
Failing that, it’s best perhaps to molt into a new acceptance of a new season in my life.   Time to shear off old vanities, snip off fears of a “weak chin,” peel away pride in a multi-color, designer beard—like this fanciful sheep.  

Change does bear getting used to.     In six weeks or so we’ll be in China.   I’m readying myself for this change.  This ol’ caterpillar’s getting ready to fly.  

What season is it in which you find yourself?   What personal exodus is causing you to shed an old skin, an old self?   From what Egypt are you being sheared?  
 God’s shears aren’t sadistic.   He wants his children free of dead, wooly weights that don’t fit our current season.   He wants us to get over ourselves; catch up with His purposes; and get on with the good works He’s appointed for each of us to do.   Welcome to shearing season!