Shepherd King, Part 3: He Makes Me

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     For many years I’ve wondered what kind of access the enemy has to our thoughts. To be clear, I should specify the enemy in view: the accuser, deceiver. The father of lies. Satan by name, devil by reputation. I’ll presume you’ve heard of him. Has he ever read your mail? Disconcerting, isn’t it? Though I’m reluctant to give too much credit, it does seem that our emotions, thought processes, and forces of reason are vulnerable to his ugly influence. How does that happen?

     I’ve asked the Father about this numerous times, asked to be granted immunity. The answer has consistently been No. I’ve asked to be happy as a clam and just as clueless, to dig deep into the sand beyond the notice of predators. Nope. Which makes me wonder again: Does the Father have a better plan?

     As we meditate on the Twenty-Third Psalm phrase by phrase, this letter is the third installment. Not to short-circuit the plan, but we’ll take three phrases this time because they’re so closely related – the first two set up the outcome of the third:

     He makes me lie down in green pastures.

            He leads me beside still waters.

                        He restores my soul (verses 2-3a).

     Ask yourself: Where is this heading? The enemy will never lead you to restoration. Never. His game is destruction. If there’s any restoring to do, he’s out. The only thing the enemy fathers is lies. Jesus said so, and you can bank on it. Only the Shepherd King restores souls. He makes. He leads. He restores.

     Does the Father ever discipline? Sure. Does the Holy Spirit ever convict? Absolutely. But where is it going? Along with the restfulness of green pastures and refreshment of still waters come the unpleasant yet needful discipline and conviction. It’s of-a-piece: none are mutually exclusive of the others. That’s the Father’s better plan. He even plunks us down within earshot of the enemy, where we have to decide whose voice we will heed.

     Remember: Only damaged things need restoration. The unused, the untouched, the pristine have no need of it. But your soul and mine have been battered. There’s one path to restoration, and only one who leads in it.

     Turn to the Shepherd King.

     For all the books to his credit, for all his vaunted knowledge and respected papers, the recently departed theologian J.I. Packer had a sweet, simple recitation that was part of his near-daily routine:

    “I am a child of God; God is my Father.

    Heaven is my home, and each day is one day closer.

    My Savior is my brother; all Christians are my brothers and sisters as well.”

     I still don’t know by what means, exactly, the enemy influences my thoughts. May never. I’ve heard theories, none of which have been satisfactory, all of which took time I could’ve spent in green pastures. Meanwhile, the Twenty-Third Psalm makes the uncluttered invitation to be led, to be made, by the one who restores souls.

     Come on.

 Grace and Peace (for what more can we ask?),

 

John