Green Pastures

I first wrote this post back in August (oh my, I can't believe it was that long ago!).  It is still applicable today.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.


When I was reading Psalm 23 this morning, I noticed that it does not say, “I shall not want.” Wanting is my choice. I choose to want this or that, or the other thing. Being IN want, however, is a little different. Being in want makes me think of insufficiency, lack, perhaps even need. Because Jesus is my Good Shepherd, I will not be in need. It’s kind of like He is saying here that taking care of my needs is part of his job description.

I don’t imagine sheep stand around and plot how they are going to find their next meal. Nope, I think they just eat. They are pretty simple animals really. A bit thick. Not really the animal I’d choose to be likened to, but there you have it. I am a bit like a sheep. Stubborn. Blind to the obvious. All too easily led by common opinion. Definitely in need of a strong-minded, kind-hearted, clued-up Shepherd. Someone who understands sheep.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters.

The thing with green pastures is that not all pastures are green. They have to be found. That’s what the shepherd’s job is, finding green pastures. That, along with fighting off bears, tending cut feet, carrying tired lambs, and much more. A good shepherd is really very versatile, don’t you think?

A shepherd knows how to find the best grass. Sheep don’t. Sheep just wander here and there.

Just now it feels a bit like we are trecking through some less-than-spectacular pastures. Brown. Crispy. Dried up and not very palatable. Edible, yes. I’m certainly not starving. I’m really doing okay. But it’s just not very exciting, or pleasant, or restful right now. Life is hard work and I’m tired. But we’re heading for that nice green valley my Shepherd loves. He knows it’s there, and I just have to keep believing, keep trudging along behind.

We had a special travelling law when I was growing up. We were not allowed to ask, “Are we there yet?” or even how much longer till we were. NEVER. This was on a ten hour car journey. Needless to say I learned the order of all major towns between Wellington and Thames at a young age…and how to read signposts! Grin. But seriously, I know that life is not about the destination. Life is all about the journey. But I’m tired. I just want to know…”Are we there yet?” I could really do with a safe, sunny green pasture right about now. I sure could use a rest. If life could be easy, even for just a week that would be so-oooo nice.

But even when we’re trekking through some pretty rough terrain, my Shepherd does have a knack for finding a tasty bit of brush to eat, or a cool shady rock to rest beside. Please excuse me a moment while I nap in its shade.

Amy