Megan, your account of the distressed cry reminds me of something- I've never even told anyone of it - that I once experienced.

I had recently bought a couple of acres in the country just over the hill from where my brother lived with his family. He had a few sheep and they grazed in the meadow bordering the stream. It was a peaceful spot, always reminding me of the psalm.

Anyway. One day I was outdoors when I heard a repeated cry for help. It was coming from my brother's direction and I sprinted up the trail, my heart in my mouth.

Help! Help! The sound got louder the closer I got. I crested the hill and listened for the direction of the call.

And again, the sheep sounded: Help! Help!