On Green Pastures

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures...
- The 23rd Psalm

Our Shepherd has all of our needs in mind. He knows of our need for rest. But I would suggest that the word "maketh" runs more along the line of "encourages, bids, provides opportunity for, or invites" than "forces, requires, mandates". He is such a loving Shepherd that, even though He may know of our need, He won't force His will on us. But the opportunity for rest is there.

Have you ever given thought to the fact that the pastures are green?. Green is such a calming, relaxing color to the human eye. Perhaps that is why a walk through the woods or in the park can be so restorative. Can you imagine lying down in a yellow pasture, or red, or even orange? No, green is the restful color. Easy on the eye, calming to the soul. I'm glad He bids me lie down in a restful place ("Come unto me...").

Have you ever laid down on the lawn, gazing up into the sky? Have you ever laid down on barren rocks, gazing up into the sky? Which was more comfortable? The pasture, of course. Pastures are serene, nutritive for the animal's needs. The "pastures" spoken of by the Psalmist were not neatly mown, fenced spaces, but sheltered, grassy, well-watered spots to which the shepherd knew he could lead his sheep. Rest, relaxation, rejuvenation, cogitation, meditation, rumination. Words that should connect our souls to the Shepherd at the green pastures He leads us to.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures...

The summer I was sixteen, my older brother and I spent some time hiking the Wonderland Trail that encircles Mt. Rainier in Washington State. From above, the mountain is not dissimilar to a spoked wheel, with alternating ridges and valleys radiating out from the central mountain's mass. As a result, any trail circumnavigating the mountain will have plenty of ups and downs - up a ridge, down into a valley. Up a ridge, down into a valley.

One day on our trip, we were going from a shelter in a meadow (green pasture) on Klapatche Ridge to another in a meadow known as Indian Henry's Hunting Ground. We'd gone down into our first valley of the day, and were cresting out near tree-line on the first ridge to climb when we began to notice that the low shrubs were festooned with shaggy white banners, not unlike the Spanish moss that is found on the live oaks of southern Georgia. Then, as we broke out into a smallish meadow, we found a small herd of mountain goats, lying placidly and chewing their cuds not far from the trail. Amazingly (we'd tried to get close to mountain goats before, to no avail), these goats simply continued their activities (or nonactivities) and paid us no mind. They were secure in their "green pasture". My brother and I joined them for a brief breather before moving on. The Lord had ( and still has) a different pasture for us. But many times during the years since that day, when I've heard or read the 23rd Psalm, my mind's eye has gone back to that windy ridge with the mountain goats.

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures..."

Have you found one of His pastures?

Dr. G