The Lord is MY shepherd . . .
Sometimes the fog rolls in on this farm covering pasture like cotton plucked and pulled thin. Sometimes anxiety rolls in over me too, shrouding me. Sometimes I just shake for lack of vision, for need of compassion, for someone to reach out and touch my head and tell me I’m not alone.
In the fog and the fear, I hold one verse like a life line. I meditate on five words . . .
The Lord is my shepherd.
And I say it five ways, slow. Drinking in calm, letting each word still my soul, letting my Shepherd soothe his fearful lamb.
THE Lord is my shepherd. There is NONE like our Lord . . .
The LORD is my shepherd. No one but the Lord can comfort me like he . . .
The Lord IS my shepherd. I do not need to doubt or fear.
The Lord is MY shepherd. Jesus loves me personally. Really.
The Lord is my SHEPHERD. Shepherds care for their sheep, love their lambs. Shepherds are good and kind and know every need of their sheep. They provide all their needs.
Soon, the cold and damp fog of fear lifts from my soul like a veil at the altar and this frightened lamb knows without doubt, she never walks alone. She is always well-loved, always and forever.
The fog obscured the fields this morning. But the sun has risen. Green is visible again. And this shaking lamb’s Son assured me all is calm, all is bright, all because of one silent night when he came—for her—for you.