"For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?" (Esther 4:14)
My Bible study group has delved into Beth Moore's study of the book of Esther. It is a brief but fascinating book of the Old Testament that lacks any mention of God, yet the work of God is clearly discerned within its verses. The above verse refers to the moment of truth that Esther faced as both a "closet Jew" and the queen of Persia - conflicting characteristics. An edict had just been decreed that all the Jews were to be put to death. Would Esther expose herself as a Jew, risking her own death, in the hopes that her connection to the king would save her people?
Have you faced a moment of truth in your life? Have you faced a decision that was incredibly difficult? Were the consequences of that decision monumental? Perhaps you didn't realize the significance of the decision until it was already made? When you look back on that time, can you discern a glimpse of God's plan for your life and for His kingdom?
The above verse was delivered to Queen Esther by her cousin Mordecai, who had raised her. Like so many of the most influential figures in the history of God's great plan, Esther was a most unlikely person to save the Jews from slaughter. She was a woman, an orphan, and a Jew living in a godless society, wedded to king who had banished his previous wife for refusing to be paraded in front of his drunken friends. Of all people, how could someone like Esther possibly change the course of history? And yet, at that moment, who else was better positioned to do just that?
Mordecai reminds us that God has a plan that will be realized whether or not we choose to participate. Sometimes, God places us in the position to directly carry out a part of His plan. If we are reluctant to follow, He will see that it is accomplished without us. But if we choose to follow, we will realize with stunning clarity the power, wisdom and benevolence of the living God. Even if the decision to accept our calling in such a moment costs us something, the reward is far greater than what we may have lost in the process.
God placed you where you are, as you are, right here and now on His created earth for a reason. Whatever decisions we face, no matter how large or small, are not by accident. We were created for "such a time as this," like an orphaned queen in ancient Persia, or an ordinary young virgin who would bear the Son of God. The question is...will we choose to follow God's lead?
What did Esther choose? Check it out for yourself. God's riches are far better articulated in His Word than in a blog post!
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Sunday, October 21, 2012
More on Crutches...
Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. (Psalm 23:6)
This morning in worship, Pastor Norm asked us to write on a little index card what "crutch" we are leaning on in life. We all have one (if not more than one), myself included. I don't know about anyone else in the pews around me, but I had no trouble thinking of my crutch: fear. For most of my life, I have allowed fear to keep me from living an abundant, joyful life in Christ. Thankfully, God is persistent and He continually finds a way to penetrate my fear. But still, your humble blogger admits to reaching for her crutch far too often.
Fear, like all our crutches, is a lie that if we allow it to set up shop in our hearts and minds, it will flourish and crowd out the hope and peace that God has promised each of us. The final verse of the Twenty-Third Psalm emphasizes the importance of replacing fear with hope in the promise of God. David's choice of words in this verse is telling. He said "Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." Notice he did not say, "I hope goodness and mercy can manage to follow me at least most of the time, and maybe I'll end up spending time with God in heaven." With God, there is no maybe. There is confidence, there is trust, and there is truth. The only obstacle is in giving up our crutches in order to walk in that truth.
In his book, "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen concludes his narrative about the Twenty-Third Psalm by reminding us that we have an advantage over David: "David did not have the insights that we have. He never heard the words, 'I am the resurrection and the life: he that believes in me, though he were dead, yet will he live; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.'"
The Twenty-Third Psalm is one of the most recognizable, easily-recited passages in all of the Bible. It's one thing to know the Psalm. It's another thing to know the Shepherd, but we can only know Him if we choose to free ourselves from that which keeps us from Him. We must immerse ourselves in His Word, we must share our lives with Him, and then trust Him to direct our paths.
I am guilty of the sin of leaning on my crutch instead of my Shepherd. "Letting go and letting God" doesn't have to be as hard as we make it. When I find myself falling into fear, I must resist the temptation to sin and reach instead for the strong hand of Jesus. He will catch me when I fall, and He will hold firmly to me as I walk in faith. He'll do the same for you, friends, no matter what crutch you're hanging onto.
Surely goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our lives, and we will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. That's a promise. Now...let's live like we believe it.
This morning in worship, Pastor Norm asked us to write on a little index card what "crutch" we are leaning on in life. We all have one (if not more than one), myself included. I don't know about anyone else in the pews around me, but I had no trouble thinking of my crutch: fear. For most of my life, I have allowed fear to keep me from living an abundant, joyful life in Christ. Thankfully, God is persistent and He continually finds a way to penetrate my fear. But still, your humble blogger admits to reaching for her crutch far too often.
Fear, like all our crutches, is a lie that if we allow it to set up shop in our hearts and minds, it will flourish and crowd out the hope and peace that God has promised each of us. The final verse of the Twenty-Third Psalm emphasizes the importance of replacing fear with hope in the promise of God. David's choice of words in this verse is telling. He said "Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." Notice he did not say, "I hope goodness and mercy can manage to follow me at least most of the time, and maybe I'll end up spending time with God in heaven." With God, there is no maybe. There is confidence, there is trust, and there is truth. The only obstacle is in giving up our crutches in order to walk in that truth.
In his book, "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen concludes his narrative about the Twenty-Third Psalm by reminding us that we have an advantage over David: "David did not have the insights that we have. He never heard the words, 'I am the resurrection and the life: he that believes in me, though he were dead, yet will he live; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.'"
The Twenty-Third Psalm is one of the most recognizable, easily-recited passages in all of the Bible. It's one thing to know the Psalm. It's another thing to know the Shepherd, but we can only know Him if we choose to free ourselves from that which keeps us from Him. We must immerse ourselves in His Word, we must share our lives with Him, and then trust Him to direct our paths.
I am guilty of the sin of leaning on my crutch instead of my Shepherd. "Letting go and letting God" doesn't have to be as hard as we make it. When I find myself falling into fear, I must resist the temptation to sin and reach instead for the strong hand of Jesus. He will catch me when I fall, and He will hold firmly to me as I walk in faith. He'll do the same for you, friends, no matter what crutch you're hanging onto.
Surely goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our lives, and we will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. That's a promise. Now...let's live like we believe it.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Setting the Table
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. (Pslam 23:5)
In his book, "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen states: "In the pastures of the Holy Land grew poisonous plants which were fatal to the sheep if eaten. Also, there were plants whose sharp thorns would penetrate the soft noses of the sheep and cause ugly sores. Each spring the shepherd would take his mattock and dig out these enemies of the sheep, pile them up, and burn them. Thus the pastures were safe for the sheep to graze. The pasture became, as it were, a table prepared. The enemies were destroyed."
It's difficult for us to recognize the table God has prepared for us in the presence of numerous enemies in this world, but we can begin to understand it by thinking of the role of parenting. From "baby-proofing" our cabinets, to forbidding the viewing of certain TV programs, to insisting on knowing who our teenagers are with at all times, we who are parents are keenly aware of the enemies that threaten our children. Nothing terrifies or motivates us more than protecting our kids from all manner of evil-doing and evil-doers in their midst.
As the shepherd demonstrates, "preparing the table" for the flock takes effort and vigilence. Just as the sheep are clueless as to all the shepherd does to protect them, so too are our children clueless about how and why we parents behave the way we do on their behalf. But perhaps most striking of all, we as God's children are abudantly clueless as to the protection God affords us daily.
While God prepares a table for us, He also promised that we would experience pain and difficulty in life. But what He also promised is that He would never abandon us in our pain. Charles Allen continues: "Sometimes, as the sheep grazed, its head would be cut by the sharp edge of a stone buried in the grass. So the shepherd would stand at the door of the fold and examine each sheep as it came in. If there were hurt places the shepherd would apply soothing and healing oil. Instead of becoming infected, the hurt would soon heal. Also, the shepherd had a large, earthen jug of water, the kind of jar which kept the water refreshingly cool through evaporation. As the sheep came in, the shepherd would dip down into the water with his big cup and bring it up brimful. The sheep drank deeply."
Among the many emotionally moving scenes in the movie "The Passion of the Christ," perhaps the most emotional for me was the scene in which Jesus' mother, walking alongside her son on the march to His death, flashes back to Jesus as a child. In the flashback, Jesus the boy falls along a rocky hill, scraping His knee. Mary rushes to His side to comfort Him, as only a mother can. Back to the present, Mary realizes in anguish that she cannot soothe her Son through what He is about to face.
Life is hard - exceedingly hard at times. The Psalmist David reminds us that like the shepherd, God knows each of us by name, He knows all our hurts, and He has the perfect remedy to heal and refresh our weary souls: the blood of His perfect Son. With Jesus as our Shepherd, we can rest assured that we will never be abandoned in our hurt.
The table has been set and the cup of Christ never runs dry. Praise God.
In his book, "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen states: "In the pastures of the Holy Land grew poisonous plants which were fatal to the sheep if eaten. Also, there were plants whose sharp thorns would penetrate the soft noses of the sheep and cause ugly sores. Each spring the shepherd would take his mattock and dig out these enemies of the sheep, pile them up, and burn them. Thus the pastures were safe for the sheep to graze. The pasture became, as it were, a table prepared. The enemies were destroyed."
It's difficult for us to recognize the table God has prepared for us in the presence of numerous enemies in this world, but we can begin to understand it by thinking of the role of parenting. From "baby-proofing" our cabinets, to forbidding the viewing of certain TV programs, to insisting on knowing who our teenagers are with at all times, we who are parents are keenly aware of the enemies that threaten our children. Nothing terrifies or motivates us more than protecting our kids from all manner of evil-doing and evil-doers in their midst.
As the shepherd demonstrates, "preparing the table" for the flock takes effort and vigilence. Just as the sheep are clueless as to all the shepherd does to protect them, so too are our children clueless about how and why we parents behave the way we do on their behalf. But perhaps most striking of all, we as God's children are abudantly clueless as to the protection God affords us daily.
While God prepares a table for us, He also promised that we would experience pain and difficulty in life. But what He also promised is that He would never abandon us in our pain. Charles Allen continues: "Sometimes, as the sheep grazed, its head would be cut by the sharp edge of a stone buried in the grass. So the shepherd would stand at the door of the fold and examine each sheep as it came in. If there were hurt places the shepherd would apply soothing and healing oil. Instead of becoming infected, the hurt would soon heal. Also, the shepherd had a large, earthen jug of water, the kind of jar which kept the water refreshingly cool through evaporation. As the sheep came in, the shepherd would dip down into the water with his big cup and bring it up brimful. The sheep drank deeply."
Among the many emotionally moving scenes in the movie "The Passion of the Christ," perhaps the most emotional for me was the scene in which Jesus' mother, walking alongside her son on the march to His death, flashes back to Jesus as a child. In the flashback, Jesus the boy falls along a rocky hill, scraping His knee. Mary rushes to His side to comfort Him, as only a mother can. Back to the present, Mary realizes in anguish that she cannot soothe her Son through what He is about to face.
Life is hard - exceedingly hard at times. The Psalmist David reminds us that like the shepherd, God knows each of us by name, He knows all our hurts, and He has the perfect remedy to heal and refresh our weary souls: the blood of His perfect Son. With Jesus as our Shepherd, we can rest assured that we will never be abandoned in our hurt.
The table has been set and the cup of Christ never runs dry. Praise God.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
The Valley
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (Psalm 23:4)
This is easily one of the most recognizable verses in the entire Bible. How telling that a verse that deals with the worst experiences of our lives - death, tragedy, loss - is the one many of us can recite from memory. It is in those darkest times when we seek comfort and reassurance. And it is in our Shepherd that we find comfort and reassurance.
In his book "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen states: "The Basque Sheepherder describes an actual Valley of the Shadow of Death in Palestine. It leads from Jarusalem to the Dead Sea and is a very narrow and dangerous pathway through the mountain range. The path is rough, and there is danger that a sheep may fall at any moment to its death. It is a forbidding journey that one dreads to take. But the sheep is not afraid. Why? Because the shepherd is with it."
As Mr. Allen points out, the Twenty-Third Psalm is the nightengale of the Psalms. The nightengale sings its sweetest when the night is darkest. When I have found myself in the valley of the shadow of death, it is daunting, overwhelming and terrifying. But always I find God to be nearer and clearer in the valley than at any other time in life. Sometimes I don't fully realize His nearness until the darkest part of the darkness has passed, but always I find Him. He doesn't "fix" things or erase the tragedy that has occurred, but He holds me as tightly and as long as I need. I can scream and cry, I can even question His place in it all...but still He holds me tight.
If you're like me, the second part of this verse - "your rod and your staff, they comfort me" - has always been a little confusing. What rod, what staff, and how could such things be comforting? Charles Allen explains: "The sheep is a helpless animal. It has no weapon with which to fight. It is easy prey to any wild beast of the field. It is afraid. But the shepherd carries a rod, which is a heavy, hard club two to three feet long. Also, the shepherd carries a staff, which is about eight feet long. The end of the staff is turned into a crook. Many paths in Palestine were along the steep sides of mountains. The sheep would lose its footing and slip down, hanging helplessly on some ledge below. With his staff, the shepherd could reach down, place the crook over the small chest of the sheep and lift it back onto the pathway. The sheep is instinctively comforted by the shepherd's rod and staff."
With the state of our world, it seems impossible that God could be near enough to comfort and protect us. But let's not forget that if the shepherd has the wisdom, compassion and know-how to protect and comfort a simple sheep, how much more does our Shepherd endeavor to do the same for us, His most prized possession? The valley may be dark and treacherous, but if we grab hold of God's hand, He will guide us back into the light.
This is easily one of the most recognizable verses in the entire Bible. How telling that a verse that deals with the worst experiences of our lives - death, tragedy, loss - is the one many of us can recite from memory. It is in those darkest times when we seek comfort and reassurance. And it is in our Shepherd that we find comfort and reassurance.
In his book "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen states: "The Basque Sheepherder describes an actual Valley of the Shadow of Death in Palestine. It leads from Jarusalem to the Dead Sea and is a very narrow and dangerous pathway through the mountain range. The path is rough, and there is danger that a sheep may fall at any moment to its death. It is a forbidding journey that one dreads to take. But the sheep is not afraid. Why? Because the shepherd is with it."
As Mr. Allen points out, the Twenty-Third Psalm is the nightengale of the Psalms. The nightengale sings its sweetest when the night is darkest. When I have found myself in the valley of the shadow of death, it is daunting, overwhelming and terrifying. But always I find God to be nearer and clearer in the valley than at any other time in life. Sometimes I don't fully realize His nearness until the darkest part of the darkness has passed, but always I find Him. He doesn't "fix" things or erase the tragedy that has occurred, but He holds me as tightly and as long as I need. I can scream and cry, I can even question His place in it all...but still He holds me tight.
If you're like me, the second part of this verse - "your rod and your staff, they comfort me" - has always been a little confusing. What rod, what staff, and how could such things be comforting? Charles Allen explains: "The sheep is a helpless animal. It has no weapon with which to fight. It is easy prey to any wild beast of the field. It is afraid. But the shepherd carries a rod, which is a heavy, hard club two to three feet long. Also, the shepherd carries a staff, which is about eight feet long. The end of the staff is turned into a crook. Many paths in Palestine were along the steep sides of mountains. The sheep would lose its footing and slip down, hanging helplessly on some ledge below. With his staff, the shepherd could reach down, place the crook over the small chest of the sheep and lift it back onto the pathway. The sheep is instinctively comforted by the shepherd's rod and staff."
With the state of our world, it seems impossible that God could be near enough to comfort and protect us. But let's not forget that if the shepherd has the wisdom, compassion and know-how to protect and comfort a simple sheep, how much more does our Shepherd endeavor to do the same for us, His most prized possession? The valley may be dark and treacherous, but if we grab hold of God's hand, He will guide us back into the light.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
The Journey to Somewhere
He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. (Psalm 23:3)
Continuing in his book "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen states: "...the sheep has no sense of direction. A dog, a cat, or a horse, if lost, can find its way back. They seem to have a compass within themselves. Not so with a sheep. The sheep has very poor eyes. It cannot see ten or fifteen yards ahead. Palestinian fields were covered with narrow paths over which the shepherds led their sheep to pasture. Some of these paths led to a precipice over which the stupid sheep might fall to its death. Other paths lead up a blind alley. But some paths lead to green pastures and still waters. The sheep followed the shepherd, knowing it was walking in the right path. Sometimes the shepherd led over steep and difficult places, but the paths he followed always ended up somewhere. The sheep was willing to trust that 'somewhere' to the shepherd's judgment."
Oh how thankful I am to have a wise Shepherd to lead this blind and stupid sheep! This part of the 23rd Psalm, as well as the most familiar part yet to be discussed, gets to the heart of what it means to have faith. All of us face times of great difficulty in life. Some of those times are the result of our own sinfulness, while other times happen without our input or choosing. The question "Why is this happening?" or "Why did this have to happen?" is as natural and necessary to our existence as breathing. Devising a worldly answer to that question is a futile effort, because no such answer can satisfy the longing in our souls that prompted us to ask the question in the first place. If we trust God to lead us, even through the rough patches, then the "somehwere" He has in mind is the answer. Life is about both the journey and the destination. God is with us on the journey in order to ensure we reach the destination He has in mind. Our faithfulness during the journey and our gratefulness for the destination glorifies God...for His name's sake.
Charles Allen adds: "Notice that the Psalm says, 'He leadeth me.' God doesn't drive. He is climbing the same hill that we climb - man is not alone. As we take life one step at a time, we can walk with Him the right paths."
The only reliable compass we have is that of our Shepherd. He is our "true north." Let us confidently follow His lead.
Continuing in his book "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen states: "...the sheep has no sense of direction. A dog, a cat, or a horse, if lost, can find its way back. They seem to have a compass within themselves. Not so with a sheep. The sheep has very poor eyes. It cannot see ten or fifteen yards ahead. Palestinian fields were covered with narrow paths over which the shepherds led their sheep to pasture. Some of these paths led to a precipice over which the stupid sheep might fall to its death. Other paths lead up a blind alley. But some paths lead to green pastures and still waters. The sheep followed the shepherd, knowing it was walking in the right path. Sometimes the shepherd led over steep and difficult places, but the paths he followed always ended up somewhere. The sheep was willing to trust that 'somewhere' to the shepherd's judgment."
Oh how thankful I am to have a wise Shepherd to lead this blind and stupid sheep! This part of the 23rd Psalm, as well as the most familiar part yet to be discussed, gets to the heart of what it means to have faith. All of us face times of great difficulty in life. Some of those times are the result of our own sinfulness, while other times happen without our input or choosing. The question "Why is this happening?" or "Why did this have to happen?" is as natural and necessary to our existence as breathing. Devising a worldly answer to that question is a futile effort, because no such answer can satisfy the longing in our souls that prompted us to ask the question in the first place. If we trust God to lead us, even through the rough patches, then the "somehwere" He has in mind is the answer. Life is about both the journey and the destination. God is with us on the journey in order to ensure we reach the destination He has in mind. Our faithfulness during the journey and our gratefulness for the destination glorifies God...for His name's sake.
Charles Allen adds: "Notice that the Psalm says, 'He leadeth me.' God doesn't drive. He is climbing the same hill that we climb - man is not alone. As we take life one step at a time, we can walk with Him the right paths."
The only reliable compass we have is that of our Shepherd. He is our "true north." Let us confidently follow His lead.
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.
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.
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.
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