Psalm 23.

Rest. 

Isn’t it funny how the very thing we begged for is the very thing we are pushing against? Isn’t it ironic that all the ‘if I only had time’ things seem much less appealing now that we have an abundance of it?

It is hard to appreciate all that I have gained because of all I have ‘perceived’ I have lost. It’s incredible the excuses I can make now that I have even more time to formulate then. 

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.” 

I am incredibly certain in this season, so many of us (I as much as anyone) are being made to lie down, and if we obey, halt our steps, and listen… perhaps can be still enough to receive the blessing of still waters and a soul restored. 

When I was in college, I often practiced ‘imaginative prayer' because I found myself at a moment of desperation where my Theological opinions mattered far less than my relationship with the Holy Spirit. I practiced what was perhaps viewed as 'controversial' or even foolish, and nothing has created more of a child-like and sweet discovery of the Godhead.  When I first began the process of learning to allow God in to my thought-life, I often imaged the Father and I sitting together on a large comfy chair--one of those big, ugly and floral ones you would find in your grandmother’s house. We would sit together in a large green field scattered with wildflowers & dandelions. There we would sit together and we would talk for hours, just the Father and me, in a field, in the haven of my imagination. How special and sacred those times were as He would remind me whose I was; I could stay in that space far longer than I ever expected I could. Over the last several weeks, before the mess of ‘shelter-in-place’ even began I kept feeling the stir in my heart: “Lie down in green fields. Come back to the pasture.” But there was never enough time, space, silence, or solitude. I pushed against being led, because I was running to the next thing, all the while missing out on the blessing which only comes from quiet waters and a soul restored. 

But now I can hear that voice again, asking me softly “Now will you lie down? Will you dwell in My House?” 

There is a stirring, a blessing, a call to create, a call to be known, a call to return to simplicity…

The Lord IS My Shepherd: 

I will not want. 

I will lie down in green pastures.

I choose to be led beside still waters. 

I will allow my soul to be restored. 

As He pours out, my cup will overflow. 

He will prepare my table, and I will enjoy the feast. 

Goodness and Mercy will follow me, my children, and my children's children all the days of my life... 

And 

I will Dwell in the house of the Lord. 

Forever. 

I will return to the pasture, and there I will find rest. 

-RS