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.