By Jeanne Smith
Long ago and far away in a particularly challenging passage in my life, 3 AM became the bewitching hour. Wide awake with thoughts churning, I reached for the 23rd Psalm. It became my mantra and companion in the dark times. Because the whole Psalm is the subject of a sermon, I will reflect on verses 1, 2, and 3.
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.
Lord, you are my shepherd; that means I am one of your sheep, part of your flock. When I stay close to you, listening to your voice, I am at peace, safe. But, I am me, at times your stubborn black sheep, wandering off, getting lost, on the brink of disaster. You always find me and bring me home.
I lack nothing. How can I have so much food, so many things to wear: warm coats, boots and mittens for our long Montana winters, and sandals in so many colors for our brief, but lovely summers. You love me no more than Harry, my homeless friend, the child who goes to school hungry, or the Ukrainian refugee. I think you are asking me to share and share some more. Gandhi said, “Earth provides enough for every man’s needs, but not for every man’s greed.”
You make me lie down in green pastures. As a hiker, you have led me to some exquisite places in your creation: mountain tops decorated in wildflowers of every color. There I see butterflies, discover animal tracks, hear bird song, and smell the exotic fragrances of the earth. In your creation I find peace.
You lead me beside still waters, creeks and babbling brooks, ponds and lakes, streams and rivers, and the seashore, where I can sink my toes in the sand and marvel at the expanse of the ocean. Each speaks to me in its own way.
And lastly, you restore my soul. Regularly I need to be renewed, repaired, recovered, revived, and healed. You, the great physician, are there to make me whole again.