THE SHEPHERD WHO NEVER LEAVES: A WIX LEGACY ARTICLE ON JOHN 10
- Douglas Vandergraph
- 2 days ago
- 6 min read
There are chapters in Scripture you study… and then there are chapters that study you. There are passages you read… and then there are passages that read your heart. Gospel of John Chapter 10 is one of those chapters. It’s not simply ink on a page. It’s Jesus revealing Himself in a way that meets you in the places you rarely talk about. The places where loneliness lives. The places where fear whispers. The places where hope needs rebuilding. The places where life feels heavier than it looks on the surface.
This chapter feels like Jesus walking straight into the tension of your real everyday life and saying, “I see you. I know you. I call you. I protect you. I lead you. I love you. And you are Mine.”
This is not a theological lecture. This is a relationship being explained by the One who authored it.
John 10 opens with a picture of a sheepfold — something familiar to ancient Israel but deeply meaningful for us today. A sheepfold was a walled enclosure with one gate. Several shepherds might bring their sheep there at night. Thick stone walls surrounded the fold. A gatekeeper stood watch. The sheep slept because someone else stayed awake.
Jesus starts here to make one message clear:
You have been protected more times than you know.
Some nights you rested even though the enemy wanted to reach you. Some seasons you survived even though fear tried to break you. Some moments you endured because God’s hand blocked something you couldn’t see. Some opportunities that never happened were actually protection. Some people who left were actually a shield. Some disappointments saved you from bigger destruction.
You weren’t lucky. You were guarded. You weren’t forgotten. You were watched over. You weren’t alone. You were defended.
This is why Jesus starts with the sheepfold. Before He ever tells you what His voice sounds like, He tells you how His care surrounds you.
But Jesus is honest — thieves exist. Voices climb the walls. They don’t come through the gate. They don’t come through truth. They don’t come through God.
These thieves show up in many forms:
Fear that steals your peace. A relationship that drains you. A thought that steals your worth. A temptation that kills your confidence. A memory that destroys your joy. Noise that confuses your direction. Pressure that destroys your clarity.
These are not random experiences. Jesus calls them thieves for a reason: they take without giving. They pull without contributing. They diminish without restoring.
And here’s where Jesus makes something beautifully clear:
You don’t survive thieves by being smarter. You survive thieves by staying close to the Shepherd.
Then Jesus says the line that defines the entire chapter:
“My sheep hear My voice.”
Do you know what that means?
You recognize God even when you feel far from Him. You sense His guidance even when you feel spiritually dry. You feel His conviction even when you’ve made mistakes. You hear His comfort when the world feels heavy. You feel His peace when everything else feels loud. You sense His pull when you’re heading the wrong direction.
You don’t hear Him because you’re perfect. You hear Him because you’re His.
His voice feels like home — familiar, grounding, gentle, steady. Even if you’re in a season of confusion, you still know when something is “of God” and when it isn’t. That sensitivity is not your skill. It’s your design.
Then Jesus draws the sharpest contrast in the spiritual world:
“The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy.”“But I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”
Two missions. One trying to empty you. One trying to fill you.
You can test every influence in your life by one question:
Does this steal from me — or give life to me?
If it steals peace — it’s not from God. If it kills hope — it’s not from God. If it destroys identity — it’s not from God.
But if it brings peace…If it strengthens your spirit…If it draws you closer to Jesus…If it aligns with truth…If it restores clarity…If it nourishes your soul…
That is the Shepherd speaking life into you.
Life more abundantly doesn’t mean a life of ease. It means a life of fullness — spiritually, emotionally, morally, eternally. A life that cannot be shrunk by fear, shame, or the world’s expectations.
Then Jesus announces His identity:
“I am the good shepherd.”
He is not just a shepherd. He is the Shepherd. He is not just good in behavior. He is good in essence. He is not just a guide. He is the sacrifice.
And then He explains what makes Him good:
“The good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep.”
This is the gospel unfolding in one sentence. Jesus didn’t die because He lost a battle. He died because He won one. The crucifixion was not an ambush. It was an assignment.
No one took His life. He gave it. Intentionally. Willingly. Lovingly.
For you.
Jesus then contrasts Himself with the hired hand — a person who cares only while it’s convenient. He says:
“The hired hand sees the wolf coming and runs away.”
Every one of us has lived this verse in real life.
There were people who stayed while things were easy…and disappeared the moment it cost something. People who wanted your strengths…but couldn’t handle your struggles. People who wanted what you offered…but didn’t want who you were. People who loved the benefits of you…but not the reality of you.
Jesus says plainly:“I am not like them.”
He does not flee. He does not abandon. He does not retreat when the wolves appear. He does not panic when danger rises. He does not walk away when you are weak.
He stands between you and what wants to break you.
Then comes one of the most beautiful sentences Jesus ever spoke:
“I know My sheep, and My sheep know Me.”
He knows the wounds you hide. He knows the fears you don’t name. He knows the internal battles that never make it into conversation. He knows the exact weight of pressure you carry. He knows the discouragement you pretend is fine. He knows the questions you’re afraid to ask.
He knows you — and loves you without hesitation.
You also know Him — more deeply than you realize. You know when something is from God. You know when His peace settles over you. You know when His conviction reaches you. Your spirit responds to Him because you belong to Him.
Then Jesus looks beyond Israel and beyond time:
“I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also.”
This is the moment where you appear in the story.
Long before you existed…long before your first prayer…long before your first failure…long before your first breakthrough…
Jesus had already claimed you as part of His flock.
You were not an afterthought. You were not added late. You were included before creation.
“I must bring them also.”
He was talking about you.
Then Jesus turns to the cross with breathtaking authority:
“No one takes My life from Me — I lay it down of My own accord.”
He chose the cross. He embraced the sacrifice. He stepped into death with authority, not fear. He laid Himself down…and He took Himself up again.
This is not weakness. This is sovereignty.
Then the chapter ends with the most comforting promise in Scripture:
“My sheep hear My voice. I know them. They follow Me. I give them eternal life. They shall never perish. No one can snatch them out of My hand.”
You are held. You are safe. You are sealed. You are protected. You are preserved. You are secure.
Not by your grip on God…but by God’s grip on you.
And Jesus adds:
“My Father… is greater than all…and no one can snatch them out of My Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”
This is double security. You are held by the Son. You are held by the Father. And those hands cannot be opened.
What does all of this mean for your real life?
It means you may feel lost — but you aren’t. You may feel alone — but you aren’t. You may feel confused — but you are still being led. You may feel attacked — but you are still protected. You may feel tired — but your Shepherd never sleeps. You may feel uncertain — but His voice will reach you.
You have a Shepherd. A real Shepherd. A near Shepherd. A powerful Shepherd. A loving Shepherd. A sacrificial Shepherd. A resurrected Shepherd.
And He will never let you go.
Douglas Vandergraph
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