Sometimes The Kin-dom Smells Like Sheep Poop
Because love hides in the dust, sweat, chaos, and sheep poop, along with the unexpected joy of ordinary work.
I found this in my journals from several years ago. It’s resonating so I rewrote it and highlighted a couple of important themes for me.
… I got a call from a friend who runs a small herd of about a hundred sheep. He needed an extra hand sorting them — some were going to market, some needed to be tagged, and others were ready for shearing.
I love a day at the farm. It gets me out of the office and away from the screen, back into the dirt and the sun where life feels a little more honest. The warm prairie breeze carried the scent of late summer as our ragtag crew gathered the flock into a small pasture. In batches of tens, we herded them into the corral where the sorting, tagging, and tattooing happened.
The sheep, being sheep, did what sheep do. Some were compliant. Others… let’s just say it turned into a wooly rodeo. There were bursts of chaos, laughter, and more than a few bruised shins.
When we had finished, sheep happily back to the green grass, I became aware of the farmyard fragrance and became aware of the sheep poop up and down the front of me.
Green tattoo ink on my hands. Sweat and dust sticking to my shirt. Every muscle in my not-so-young body ached. And yet, as we sat on the tailgate eating sandwiches and swapping stories, I felt something deeper than satisfaction of a job well done. I felt content.
Everyone Gets to Play
This became more pointy for me as I reflected on the youngest members of our crew.
A blonde-haired boy, maybe eleven, lived a couple kilometres down the road, who loves video games but had never been near sheep before. At first, he was overwhelmed by the noise, the chaos, the wool flying everywhere. We taught him to work the gate — a simple job, but not an easy one, especially when rusty barbed wire is involved. After a little coaching and encouragement, he settled in, steady and sure. By the end, he was beaming.
I also remember a fifteen-year-old kid, gentle as a summer breeze. While some wrestled sheep into submission, he moved slowly and softly, guiding them with a calmness that settled even the most ornery ewe. He seemed to know instinctively what the rest of us were oblivious to — heavy-handedness only creates pushback and more chaos.
And then there was the smallest — five years old, about to start kindergarten. His job? Find the right ear tags and hand them to us. It slowed the process down, sure, but no one minded. He was part of the work, too. His face absolutely lit up when he got his “wages” — a crisp ten-dollar bill he proudly used to buy his family ice cream later that evening.
Somewhere between wrangling sheep, a mucky corral and dodging barbed wire, it hit me: this is what co-creation looks like. The idea that God is not a distant pleated, buttoned up, white-gloved controller but the great inviter with dirty hands — playing in the mud of creation inviting us to play as well - toward relational complexity, beauty and love. And we get to respond. We get to join in.
Sorting sheep may not sound like holy work, but it was. Together — the crew, the sheep, the land, and the Spirit moving quietly among us — we were doing something real, something good.
Simple? for sure. But even bruised shins and sheep poop can be holy when they’re shot through with possibilities for wellbeing.
Everyone had a role. Everyone mattered. Everyone belonged.
This is what God’s Kin-dom looks like: everyone gets to play.
Work Is Not Punishment
Funny, it seems we’ve inherited this strange idea that work is a curse—a punishment handed down after the Fall. Before shame, before exile and perceived estrangement, God invites to humans work: to tend, to name, to create, to join God in shaping life.
Dallas Willard said something like God isn’t opposed to effort (work) s/he is opposed to earning it. Work isn’t about earning God’s favor or proving our worth, either. That’s more like toil - working endlessly for something we already have.
Work is part of our design. God, after all, is a working God — a Creator whose hands are always in the dirt. When we work — when we create, sort, mend, build, cook, write, love — we participate in God’s ongoing work of creation.
It’s not always easy. It’ll leave you smelly, sore, and maybe stained with green tattoo ink. But when our work flows in the creative currents of love, it becomes sacred — our small yes’ added to God’s great big yes.
The Sacred Ordinary
By the time I got home, I was exhausted, sore, and — let’s be honest — still smelled like sheep. As my beloved enthusiastically directed me to the shower, I also carried a quiet joy with me. Because here’s the thing: most of life with God happens like this — not in grand gestures or perfect plans or sterility of holy buildings, but in small moments of shared work, laughter, mess, and a few faithful, forgiving friends. Work isn’t punishment. It’s creative participation. It’s partnership. It’s saying “yes” to God’s ongoing creation by way of a thousand ordinary ways.
So, yah … sometimes, the Kin-dom smells like sheep poop.
Sola Caritas,
𝞃Michael
It’s been a minute
Here’s a few neat things from the past month.
Congratulations to Victoria & Joshua Rose on their wedding August 16.
I’ve spent a few days on Tour with Jacob Rose - fantastic shows, great audiences and some catching up. Here’s Jake latest release - Click image to Listen
Finally, Trevor and I had a chance to sit down with Tori Owens to talk about Julian of Norwich and we explored some big ideas that help us live well today. Click image to watch/listen to our conversation here:
I love physical labor. It's probably the easiest way for me to get into the "zone".