My mother was not a student of the Word. While she called herself a Christian, it meant something different to her than it did to me.
No matter our differences, my mom knew one Scripture that she quoted to me when I was a kid and had those painful charlie horses in my legs. I’d be crying and rubbing my legs as she soothingly repeated those famous words.
It was Psalm 23.
And there’s only one way to say it:
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.
I’m pretty stressed out right now. Lot’s going on in life. Lots of things not the way I’d like them. Not sure how to handle life, how to be. When I am stressed, then I am cranky. And not very nice.
I need still waters, comfort, goodness and mercy.
These posts and a Bible Study a friend and I lead have recently convicted me in two ways:
- I need to thank God more – not just “Thank you that it could be worse.” Or “Thank you for what you will teach me through this.” But just “Thank you for these crappy circumstances,” an expression of trust.
- I need to ask God for help more, ask Him how to do this, ask Him to rescue me from myself, ask Him how to love.
So what does all this have to do with Psalm 23?
I need to trust the Shepherd who’s been through the valley of death and knows how to get me to the house of the Lord. That’s where the thanks comes in.
And I need Him to lead me to the still waters, in the paths of righteousness (that goes to ” How do I live and love?”), through the valley, to the house – using his rod and staff.
I could use a little cup running over, too.
Readings: Leviticus 3:1-4:45, Psalm 23, Proverbs 9:1-6, Matthew 27:57-66. See About for what I’m up to with these daily posts.
I love that image of thanking without trying to make sense, just trusting.
A tidbit from the parenting resource I’ve been leaning on lately, is that emotional release can be more effective than reasoning, reminders, exhortation, and so on. When your emotions are overloaded, it’s hard to act as if from a place of plenty, peace, and security, even when you know intellectually that you’re in such a place. And you can’t offload emotions with mental actions. You’ve got to cry, to punch a pillow, to scream, something of that nature, preferably in the presence of someone who can caringly listen through your outburst without judging you, trying to fix you, or being shocked by you.
I am not very good at setting myself up for a good cry when I need one, but I’m getting better at physical releases for anger / frustration / contempt / disgust.