THE SHEPHERD

HH, Sir Godfrey Gregg D.Div

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” Psalm 23:1

The Lord is my Shepherd, in the morning hours, leading me forth to the duties and temptations and difficulties of the day, and Himself going before me. As I gird myself for the activities and the thousand perils of my life — I am sure that He is with me. I dare not journey out to them alone. For apart from Him, I can do nothing.

The Lord is my Shepherd, in the hot noontide too, when the sun beats fiercely down. He conducts me then, to green pastures and along the banks of the waters of quietness. As I ply my daily task with busy feet, I would often come aside to be with Him, to ponder His Word, to listen to the restoring whisper of His Spirit. It is the secret of abiding and prevailing peace.

The Lord is my Shepherd when the night falls, and it is growing dark. You have seen the picture of the girl who walks through the Valley of the Shadow, with her hand clasped in Christ’s hand. Trust is conquering terror on her face, and she grows confident that no enemy will vanquish her. So may it be with me, whenever I enter the ravine and bosom the chilling floods.

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GODLINESS

The King of Love, my Shepherd is! How this “my,” this pronoun of personal possession comforts my poor heart, “The Lord is my Shepherd!”

Can I say it? If I can, humbly and heartily — then assuredly in life and death and eternity I shall not want. For I am persuaded that nothing shall separate me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus my Lord. His shepherd hood is no transient endowment and no fleeting impulse and no passing mood; it is from everlasting to everlasting.

1 My Shepherd, you supply my need,
most holy is your name;
in pastures fresh you make me feed,
beside the living stream.
You bring my wand’ring spirit back.
when I forsake your ways;
you lead me, for your mercy’s sake,
in paths of truth and grace.

2 When through the shades of death I walk,
your presence is my stay;
one word of your supporting breath
drives all my fears away.
Your hand in sight of all my foes,
does still my table spread;
my cup with Blessings overflows,
your oil anoints my head.

3 Your sure provisions gracious God
attend me all my days;
oh, may your house be my abode,
and all my work be praise.
Here would I find a settled rest,
while others go and come;
no more a stranger, nor a guest,
but like a child at home.