He makes me lie down in green pastures
15 September 2010
I feel like ever since July I’ve been in a pattern of catching up on e-mail/work/cleaning … only to be called out of town and fall behind again. And it’s not like I’m getting called out of town for fun stuff. (Although, as I’m thinking about that, do you ever get called out of town last minute for good stuff?)
When Connor was 2 weeks old, we dashed off to McCook, Nebraska to see my husband’s grandmother. It seemed she only had days to live, that she’d never leave her room in the hospital, and so we went. But God worked a miracle and now six weeks later she’s doing things like canning vegetable soup.
And then when Connor was 6 weeks old, he and I booked it down to Oklahoma to say goodbye to my Aunt Penny, who’s been battling brain cancer for a year now. It was a very aggressive kind of cancer, and they told us they didn’t expect her to live more than two weeks.
And on Sunday we loaded up 8-week-old Connor and headed back down to Oklahoma for Penny’s funeral.
One of the Psalms that was read during her service was Psalm 23, one that’s so familiar I rarely think about it anymore. It starts out, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures.”
This was the first time I’d noticed, “He makes me lie down in green pastures.”
Makes me.
At first I thought of this being something God forced on David, the writer. Same as McKenna might say I make her take naps. She can choose her attitude – good or lousy – but the nap is not an option.
But then it occurred to me that I would also say, “My husband makes me weak in the knees.” So maybe it doesn’t mean that God forces David to rest. Maybe it means that when God is truly your shepherd, you can’t help but rest.
And as I’m staring at the 45 message sitting in my inbox, I’m realizing how in need I am of my sense of peace being something bigger than having a short to-do list. It needs to be something bigger than the laundry all being folded, ironed, and put away.
Because even if I take the afternoon to clean my inbox out, there’ll be messages waiting within the half hour. And each day produces new laundry. Heck, when you have a 2-month-old, each hour produces new laundry.
Today I’m choosing to trust God to shepherd me. I’m going to trust Him to order my day. All in hopes of finding the green pastures and quiet waters that elude me when I attempt to manufacture them on my own.
Beautiful reflections, Stephanie. I love that. May he restore your soul and leave you not wanting for anything.
Posted by Roseanna White on 15 September 2010