Psalm 23: A sheep’s tale
Psalm 23 [Amplified Version]
“1 The Lord is my Shepherd [to feed, to guide and to shield me], I shall not want. 2 He lets me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still and quiet waters. 3 He refreshes and restores my soul (life); He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. 4 Even though I walk through the [sunless] [a]valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod [to protect] and Your staff [to guide], they comfort and console me. 5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You have anointed and refreshed my head with [b]oil; My cup overflows. 6 Surely goodness and mercy and unfailing love shall follow me all the days of my life, And I shall dwell forever [throughout all my days] in the house and in the presence of the Lord.”
I have to say that this is one scripture that will not soon leave my heart because its words have increasingly brought new meaning to me and I believe that this is an extension of the mystery of His ways. I have come to understand my position in the grand scope of things and how powerful playing my part is in the fulfilment of my destiny. My position is that of sheep and his is that of shepherd and it is paramount that as humans we get this, because once we do a lot of things will finally start to make sense in our individual walks.
A sheep’s tale
She was always a “different” child. Right from the days of perm when every other normal girl out there would style their hair in what was called push-back, she would style hers coming forwards, in a shade and extra curls to make a fun and unique style of the then trendy do. When others gathered around at break time she would sometimes space out and look into the far distance at the mountains that form the back drop at Kyle Preparatory School.
Even from that age she loved drama, acted in school plays, sang in choir and wrote quite well, she also had a healthy sense of imagination and often dreamt in movie style. It was a little Saturday sleep in ritual at home to lay semi awake but drifting to different lands where life was good and she was free. This was mostly inspired by all the Enid Blyton books that had been stocked so fervently at the library. Her happy go lucky mind was filled with Golliwogs, a sense of honour and charming opportunities to be wooed by one such Prince. Hope and happiness were always a breath away and me was the only person I wanted to be.
What happened? Well that’s a difficult post mortem to give because I don’t really know either, could be that I got overwhelmed by bottled up and undealt with traumas that are inevitable in life, or that I grew up as a Christian but without actually enjoying the peace and love that comes with an intimate non-perfectionist relationship with God.
Either way I was recently a dead man walking and the trail of bodies with my particular strain on it was growing (its ironic that we make movies and series about zombies when many of us really are “walking dead”).
Unfortunately this strain was just as hectic as the T virus on Resident Evil because it affected other people too mutating their DNA to become their own kind of dead inside either through relationships or encounters with me. How we treat and relate to others around us matters.
I was flea bitten, heavy laden, depressed with no excitement or hunger for life and as it turns out this was my valley of the shadow of death but by his rod he corrected me to comfort. Once I realised that I needed to be led I began to seek the face that could lead me. At first I was fanatical in my search, almost like a strung-out junkie determined to get my next “fix” at any cost. Needless to say this was unsustainable because I became as religious as Phar-is-I could-see and at some point I was in Church or at some Church affiliated something for 6 out of the 7 days of the week.
Those days when I dropped the ball I was consumed by guilt, a feeling of reduced value to God and this made me add more on my religious to-do list so that God would still see that I was paying him my dues and hoping he would not depart from me. The beauty about spiritual rehab is that its not about going cold turkey and getting a major beating when you fail, but its about confronting scary thoughts, silly mistakes, embarrassing moments and overcoming your helplessness in a safe zone. There is such power in being vulnerable. Its how we were always meant to be especially with God.
I am a harmless sheep, not very high up on the food chain and that’s ok with me because I am loved ferociously, led purposefully and provided for lovingly to live in the sheep’s pen of the almighty Shepherd.
