Monday, August 13, 2012

Looking Up

He makes me to lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters (Psalm 23:2)

My mother used to make me take naps when I was a young child, as I also did with my own child. Naps are wonderful things, aren’t they? They provide rest and refreshment, as well as the nurturing of growth and development. When we’re kids, we often rebel against them, thinking them unfair restrictions on our play time. As grown-ups, we may appreciate the physical and mental benefits of a nap, but the demands of adulthood often keep us (or discourage us) from partaking.

Even though we may have aged out of regularly-scheduled naptime, there are times when we are forced to take a rest – whether we want to or not. Stress piles up and affects the body in numerous ways, often in the form of illness or other ailments.  For me it tends to be migraines. We are reminded that we cannot do everything and we are in fact in control of very little. Never is this more apparent than when our bodies give out under the strain of our feverish lives.

In his book "God’s Psychiatry," Charles Allen further describes the relationship between sheep and shepherd: "…the shepherd starts the sheep grazing about 4 o’clock in the morning. The sheep walk steadily as they graze; they are never still. By 10 o’clock, the sun is beaming down and the sheep are hot, tired, and thirsty. The wise shepherd knows that the sheep must not drink when it is hot, neither when its stomach is filled with undigested grass. So the shepherd makes the sheep lie down in green pastures, in a cool, soft spot. The sheep will not eat lying down, so he chews his cud, which is nature’s way of digestion."

Not only do we need physical rest, but we also need nourishment and refreshment. Human beings cannot survive for long periods without nutrients and fluids, and we certainly cannot thrive on grease and caffeine. Our bodies have needs and limitations which must be respected, no matter how frantically we pace ourselves. I’ll never forget how famished I was after my daughter was born. Her needs occupied every waking moment, such that I didn’t take time to eat until I was almost falling over from hunger. I felt inadequate and fearful that this was how life would always be. And then the doorbell rang and in walked some friends of ours, armed with grilled pork chops, mashed potatoes, broccoli-cheese casserole, rolls hot from the oven, and a perfectly plump and juicy apple pie. To say that I licked my plate clean would be an understatement.  Never before and not since has a meal refreshed me so completely.

The sheep is fearful of moving water because it cannot swim. It will not drink from swift waters, even if it is parched. The shepherd understands this and does not try to change it; rather, as Charles Allen states, "As he leads his sheep across the mountains and valleys, he is constantly on the watch for still waters where the thirst of the sheep may be quenched. If there are no still waters available, while the sheep are resting, the shepherd will gather up stones to fashion a dam across a small stream to form a pool from which even the tiniest lamb may drink without fear."

Our Heavenly Father knows us completely, including our needs, our strengths, our fears, and our limitations.  Just as the sheep depends upon the wisdom and compassion of the shepherd to meet its needs, so too can we confidently depend on our Shepherd to meet ours.  It is to our benefit to remember this as we carry about our day, but if we should forget, let us not complain when we are made to lie down.  For, as Charles Allen asserts, it is often when we are lying flat on our backs that we are finally forced to look up.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

A Simple Slice of Bread

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. (Psalm 23:1)

Several years ago, a dear friend and I read a book entitled "God’s Psychiatry" by Charles L. Allen, and my Bible study group is reading it today. First published in 1953, the book breaks down the Bible’s most influential and well-known verses into a scripturally sound, thought-provoking, easy to understand narrative. Specifically, the book discusses the Twenty-Third Psalm, the Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, and the Beatitudes.  Based on may of the intriguing insights the author had, I felt it would be appropriate to share some of them in this blog.

The 23rd Psalm is perhaps the most highly-recognized of all 150 psalms, recited frequently at funerals – and for good reason. It is not about death; rather, it is about the confidence and comfort we find in God. So powerful are the truths contained in this psalm that Charles Allen has prescribed the daily reading and mediation of it as a cure for distress of many kinds. He may be onto something. Have you ever really thought about the words – I mean really let them sink into your bones? I admit that I have not.  Perhaps like other verses or phrases we've heard often in life - biblical or otherwise - repetition can sometimes cause us to lose the impact.

I’ve also never really stopped to consider the depth of God’s comparison of us to sheep. My 21st Century mental picture of a flock of sheep looks something like this: they are dumb and half-blind, always in danger and at the mercy of everything around them – thus in need of a shepherd to guard them and get them safely from point A to point B. I can see how I am much like a sheep, in need of God’s guidance. As always seems to be the case, though, there’s much more to it than that. Charles Allen states, "Instinctively, the sheep knows the shepherd has made plans for its grazing tomorrow. He knows the shepherd made ample provision for it today, so will he tomorrow, so the sheep lies down in its fold…" Notice that this verse does not say "I hope God will be my shepherd." It says, "God IS my shepherd." That fact that God IS means that I shall not want.

To further illustrate this point, the author offers a story so touching, it begs to be shared: "Immediately after World War II, the Allied Forces gathered up many hungry, homeless children and placed them in large camps. There the children were abundantly fed and cared for. However, at night they did not sleep well. They seemed restless and afraid. Finally, a psychologist hit on a solution. After the children were put to bed, they each received a slice of bread to hold. If they wanted more to eat, more was provided, but this particular slice was not to be eaten – it was just to hold. The slice of bread produced marvelous results. The child would go to sleep, subconsciously feeling it would have something to eat tomorrow. The assurance gave the child a calm and peaceful rest."

No matter what we’ve lost, no matter what tomorrow holds, we can rest assured that God will be with us and our needs will be provided for. We can rest comfortably, slice of bread in hand, because the Lord IS our shepherd. We shall not want.