David needed a shepherd

The Lord is my Shepherd. So David wrote.

He would know what that meant. Being a shepherd himself he would know what it meant to call the Lord his Shepherd.

Sheep are needy creatures. They fall down and don't know how to get up. They charge each other and butt heads and deliver wounds in the head because their wool causes them to sort of stick rather than graze off each other. They foolishly follow each other - not always to good and safe places. If they wander off, they can't find their way back to the herd. No wonder the shepherd needed to help those who were cast down and couldn't get up; anoint heads with oil so the butting heads wouldn't cause injury but rather slide off each other; stay close to the sheep to keep wandering off to a minimum; leave the sheep to search for the one who got lost.

They are quite helpless creatures. David knew this.

So to compare himself to a sheep was quite profound. To call God his Shepherd was quite lovely. David once wrote, “Yet I am poor and needy; may the Lord think of me. You are my help and my deliverer; O my God, do not delay.” We all need guidance. We all need direction. We all need help, in this life. It is a good thing to recognize one’s neediness, for this realization puts one in position to be guided, directed, and helped. Only the needy know they need a shepherd. Only those who realize their need for guidance can be guided.

Falling down, wounding myself and others, getting lost. Sounds like things I do. I, too, need this Shepherd. And He is mine!!!

lost right in front of us - but oh! so found

Dad's Alzheimers is overtaking what is really precious now.
His little blondie, Gracie, seems to be lost to him.
"Where did you grow up?" he asked her the other day.

"Dad, I'm your blondie, Gracie. I grew up in your house with you. I'm your daughter."
"No one told me that!"
He's so lost in another world, yet there sits that once wonderfully active, strong and handsome body.
He's pretty much gone.
Why does God leave him here?
What is left to us?
Whenever Gracie reads Scripture in the garden or gets out the old church hymnal to sing or asks Dad to pray, Dad is unnervingly in the moment. He is coherent, accurate, quotes Scripture, full of praise, aware of family names and needs.
Why does God leave him here with us?

So that we can see God in all His glory in this disease-ravaged, imperfect and broken vessel we still lovingly call "Dad".
A few weeks ago - maybe even as recently as this morning, to be honest - I would have said that Dad wouldn't want to live like this - in a nursing home, unable to go where he wants to go, be home with his dear wife of 56 years, drive his car, watch TV in his own family room, feed the birds, take a walk. But he is living how he has always lived - giving praise to His dear Savior.
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:16-19

If I'd known it would be this easy...!!!

There I was, yesterday morning, minding my own business. I was at Perks, the coffee shop around the corner from my house. Sitting in my usual chair, I was reading Respectable Sins for the upcoming book group discussion. On the table was one of my Latin books as I was soon going to study for the 4th year class.

From behind me came the question, "Is this yours?" A large red book appeared in the hands of the employee. She had noticed my green book as being very similar to the red one which had been sitting behind the counter for the last two weeks.

If I'd known that all I had to do was post on this blog about the black hole that seems to eat voraciously all things Parsons, I would have done so long ago! But actually, two fine ladies, Margie and Lynn, both offered me their copies to replace the one I thought I'd never see again. Perhaps the kindness of friends is what God wanted me to know while I waited for him to return MY book!!

hungry black hole

Does your home have a black hole? You know - the place where socks and little T-shirts and glasses and puzzle pieces and pens disappear.

Well, my Latin teacher's guide, precious to me for years of notes and Latin Jeopardy games - yes!! - has evaporated from plain view. It was there one minute and invisible the next.

Mystified, unsettled, frustrated, I keep looking in the same places thinking that - as mysteriously as it disappeared - it will reappear. Maybe with some of those socks whose lonely partners sit hopefully awaiting the return of their match. Where, O Where are you, my personal black hole? Won't you regurgitate your purloined meals!!