For most of my life, I have performed somewhat of a balancing act. You ever heard the phrase, “God doesn’t want fence riders? You’re either in or your out.” I don’t know if it’s a weakness or a thorn God has given me, but for the life of me, I cannot figure out how to place more weight on what He thinks of me rather than what everyone else around me thinks.
I live in this haunting space between allowing God to lead me to rest beside his quiet waters, as Psalm 23 offers, and trying to carry the unbearable weight of pleasing men. I can’t get it through my thick skull that Jesus really is serious when he says, “My yolk is easy and my burden is light.”
I am not usually one to run away, but sometimes, especially lately, I’ve just wanted to run. I want to get lost somewhere in the Colorado mountains, living off the land in an old mining cabin. Then I read Psalm 23 and David says, “He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside quiet waters,” and I realize I’m trying to do the impossible; control what is happening around me so that I’m a little more comfortable.
I cannot tell you how badly I want to release that control and let God make me lie down, to soak up those quiet, refreshing waters. If I could just grasp the concept that David enjoys, oh the weight that is lifted…
God, lead me to rest. Make me lie down and relish just being in your presence. Bring me to dwell in your house forever, because I cannot get there on my own.
Sorry about the lack of significance today…