My Psalm 23 Prayer

By Tawna Wilkinson

                                   

Ten years ago, during a very dark night in my life, Psalm 23 came to me in a breathtaking shaft of light. The truth is that “common” scripture I memorized as a child, and heard over and over, literally saved my life in those moments of terror. It gifted me with a strange peace I was extremely thankful for.

A few weeks back, a circumstance presented itself – just one more, in a long line of challenges since the death of my dad 15 months past. I had a bout with appendicitis. Although the intensity of the experience was not nearly as dramatic as my “dark night”, or the death of my dad…. it was tough.

And on one particular night while still in the hospital, I hit a point of deep discouragement. And the Lord brought me back to Psalm 23 in an intriguing form of encouragement. He invited me to say it to Him, in my own words, as a prayer of thanksgiving; as if my life was already complete.

This is what I prayed:

“You Lord, were always my Shepherd. Throughout my life You caused me to lie down, repeatedly in soft, green pastures. You led me beside peaceful, still waters. And You lovingly and gently stored, and re-stored my soul.

Papa, all of my life You led me in Your sweet paths of  righteousness, for the sake of Your holy and beautiful name.

Even though I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death, I have feared absolutely nothing, because You are still with me.

Your rod and Your staff, although hard, comforted me many times. As I knew that those whom You love You discipline.

More than once You laid out a feasting table for me to sit at in the very presence of the enemy of my soul. 

Over and over, You abundantly anointed my head with oil; my cup overflowed.

Surely goodness and mercy did more than follow me all the days of my earthly life. I not only lived on this earth in Your presence. But am now living in it with You, forever.”

The comfort I was absorbed in as I chose each word was profound. To thankfully pray my version of Psalm 23 to Him as if I had actually entered eternity gifted me with another breathtaking shaft of light. He shed peace on my past, recent past and future. And He filled me once again, with a quiet calm regarding my present situation.

I Send...I Call

By Tawna Wilkinson

                                                          

Who I send, I enable.

Who I call, I am with.

My Word does not return to Me void.

When I send, I accomplish.

When I call, it is for now.

My Word does not return to Me void.

Where I send, I supply.

Where I call, I am there.

My Word does not return to Me void.

How I send, cannot be figured.

How I call, does not make sense.

My Word does not return to Me void.

Why I send, I love the lost sheep.

Why I call, love must be satisfied.

My Word does not, cannot, 

and will not return to Me void.

Writing Songs, Taking Selah

By Esther Belin

I have been reading through the Psalms the last few days, paying special attention to chapters I normally gloss over – like Psalm 3. This psalm is labeled as “A psalm of David. When he fled from his son Absalom.”  (For more about that conflict see 2 Samuel, chapters 15-18.) This notation sets a virulent tone – one of sorrow, tragedy, and confusion. David, the one known as a man after God’s own heart, fully exercises all his emotions in song!

I love how God uses songs as a way to dialogue with Him. Knowing that these psalms incorporate Hebrew poetry and structure makes me so curious to study them in Hebrew – especially because I am appreciative of writing as an art. But I am more appreciative of David as a servant of the Most High God. I wonder at the dialogue between him and God. When God asked David to write about this painful and lonely time, what was David’s reaction? Did he agree readily? Or did an emotional tornado wrench at his body and soul at the thought of reliving that time? 

I appreciate that David not only obeyed God, but that his retelling of this painful time does so in music and poem. Beauty from ashes. When I am in the middle of a painful situation – and I don’t even want to pray (or know what to pray), I can always trust that reading through the psalms gives me hope. I thank our loving Father God that He wants us to be emotionally healthy – God expects us to feel and He also wants us to write our own song of beauty from ashes.  He wants us to be consumed by Him – to refine, to reposition, to rejoice! Crazy hard, but doable (Romans 12:12 ESV).  

Additionally, three instances of Selah are included in this short psalm. Selah generally infers a pause – a rest to take in God’s presence, a meditation.

I love this intentional call for a pause. In this particular psalm, I imagine the Selah as a time to fully cry unto God or fully praise God – either way, a true pouring out of self. I can totally visualize David doing both.   

The verse that comforts me the most is verse 5:

“I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the Lord sustains me.” When we “cry aloud” to God, He answers us “from his holy hill” that we may “lie down and sleep.” 

God wants to give us rest! He knows the pressures we are under. He not only knows, He sees and hears. Such love. 

The second half compounds on God’s love: He sustains us. Because of all the emotional weight David was bearing I believe the only reason David was able to awaken again is because he poured himself out to God the day before – in tears and in praises.

This is such a good practice. I easily get filled with the weighty yucky stuff of this world – and I am regularly finding out how easy it can be to let God carry my burdens by crying out and by praising Him. The more I take time to Selah and understand God’s love for me, the more obediently I pour out myself to Him. I want to be sustained. I want restful sleep.

At times, I also want revenge for my pain. Verses 6,7 truly speak to that emotion. David embraces God’s command to not fear. Great assurance. I do love the zeal of verse 7. David cheers God on to arise, deliver him, strike his enemies in the jaw, and break their teeth! Great deliverance. David is a wonderful representation of how to lament, express, and seek God. This short psalm literally packs a punch – and I always feel good after reading it. Great relief. 

We are God’s children and He will defend. We are God’s creation and He will strengthen our skills to sing a new song (Ps. 33:3 NKJV). 

Dear Readers, my challenge to you is to write out your song. Song of Lament. Song of Praise. Song of Deliverance. Seek inspiration from David and strength from our Sovereign God. Allow our Almighty, Compassionate Lord and Savior to awaken your heart strings. And please share it – so we can rejoice or weep along with you (Romans 12:15).  

Seeds: Mystifying Mini Marvels

By Tawna Wilkinson                                                                                                
                                                                                                                       

                                                                                                                                                        

Did you know that seeds, those tiny, motionless, boring-looking things are in reality mystifying, mini marvels packed with life? Laboratory scientists have studied, dissected and microscopically peered into the seed coat of different kinds of seeds all over the globe and continue to be baffled by the activity they find; like the breathing, eating and drinking seeds do. 

That’s right, scientists have found that seeds - no matter what size, shape, or texture - breathe by absorbing oxygen from the atmosphere. They drink by soaking up moisture in the air and eat by using the moisture to turn stored up chemicals they have in their cells to food. And while they are waiting to sprout, they know exactly how much of it to do.

What’s more, each of these crunchy wonders, though it hasn’t sprouted, is an entire plant. It’s just in its embryonic or beginning form. Scrunched up inside the hull of a seed is a very small plant with all its teeny tiny plant parts. The leaves of the seed are called cotyledons. These are the first two leaves you see when the plant sprouts. The cotyledons are wrapped around and attached to a small stem, a tiny leaf bud, and a root tip.

Throughout the fall season and freezing winter, the tiny plant stays in its protective seed coat with its cotyledons wrapped around itself like a cozy blanket. It breathes, drinks, and eats while patiently waiting for spring.  When spring does arrive, the rain and sun, water and warm the ground. 

Then, when conditions are just right, the root tip breaks through the seed’s hull and grows downward, while the cotyledons stretch for the sun. The lifeless-looking wonder sprouts into a seedling. The summer season matures the seedling into an adult plant. It blossoms and bears fruit with hundreds, sometimes thousands, more seeds full of the same packed life it had.

So the next time you see a seed, one of those tiny, motionless, boring-looking things, remember, though your eyes cannot see it, there is surprising activity going on inside that mystifying, mini marvel that still has scientists scratching their heads.