I stood beside Hope's crib when she was a toddler and patted
her bottom, rubbed her back and sang. Thinking she was asleep, I slowly lifted my hand from her back, but without lifting her check or opening her
eyes, she whispered, "shong,"
which was my signal to continue. At the
age of five, her bedtime story was simple: one book, usually about Barbie or a
Princess, but the songs were complicated, either The
Bare Necessities from Jungle Book (I only knew the chorus) or A Spoon Full of Sugar from Mary
Poppins (It didn't matter that I'm an alto).
James
required two or three books, and my creative Water
Medley and Jesus Medley worked
perfectly as lullabies in his glider rocker.
By the age of five, though, James found LOTS to do in his room, so
we stayed with him until he fell asleep.
"Mommy,
when are you going to leave?"
"When you're asleep."
After a few minutes... "I'm asleep now,
you can leave."
"No,
you're not."
"How
will you know I'm asleep?"
"I
can hear you breathing."
He closed his eyes, breathed as loudly as
possible, and started the fake
snore. Nice try, Jaybird.
He
makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. Psalm 23:2
After reading Charles Allen's God's Psychiatry many
years ago, Psalm 23 became a favorite passage and eventually very real to me.
The shepherd starts the
sheep grazing about 4 a.m. The sheep walk steadily as they graze; they are
never still. By 10 a.m., the sun is beaming down and the sheep are hot, tired,
and thirsty. The wise shepherd knows that the sheep must not drink when it is
hot, neither when its stomach is filled with undigested grass. So the shepherd
makes the sheep lie down in green pastures, in a cool, soft spot. The sheep
will not eat lying down, so it chews its cud, which is nature’s way of
digestion. Study the lives of great people, and you will find every one of them
drew apart from the hurry of life for rest and reflection. Great poems are not
written on crowded streets, lovely songs are not written in the midst of
clamoring multitudes; our visions of God come when we stop. The Psalmist said, “Be still, and know that
I am God” (Psalm 46:10). The sheep will drink only from still waters. If
there are no still waters available, while the sheep are resting, the shepherd
will gather up stones to fashion a dam across a small stream to form a pool
from which even the tiniest lamb may drink without fear. Even while he is
sleeping, the Shepherd is working to prepare for his needs tomorrow.
I knew the physical
benefits of sleep, so I devoted many hours making my children rest their bodies
for another day. Unfortunately, I didn't devote many hours for my own rest and
stillness for spiritual health; instead, I filled my days with nonstop noise
and deeds (as many distractions as possible) to avoid silence. So, as
the Psalmist promised, my Shepherd made
me lie down and be still. Starving for
spiritual food, I was led to hours
alone in strange stillness of cool, nourishing pastures without the usual noises
hiding His voice, to reading and searching
(no music or television) and an opportunity to drink water my Shepherd
carefully prepared, and although it was difficult being made to STOP and REST, I'm forever grateful. I'm hardheaded and easily distracted, so I know He will do it
again when necessary, for my Shepherd
"restores my soul.."
Katy
