By the Still Waters'. 2

"He makes me to lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside the still waters." This is a picture of peace. The flock has been fed; and now in the heat of the day the shepherd leads his sheep into the shelter, and makes them lie down in the soft, lush grass, by the edge of the rippling streams, to rest awhile.

This suggests the rest into which our Good Shepherd leads his flock. Life is not all toil. God gives us many quiet resting-places in our pilgrim way. Night is one of these, when, after the day's toil, struggle, and exhaustion, we are led aside, and the curtains are drawn to shut out the noise, and he gives his beloved sleep—and in sleep, he gives the wonderful blessings of renewal. The Sabbath is another of these quiet resting-places. God would have us drop our worldly tasks, and have a day for the refreshing of both body and soul. It is a sore loss when for any reason one has to miss his Sabbath rest. Few things in the life are sadder than the encroachments of the world's bustle, strife, and care upon Sabbath quiet and peace.Friendship's trysts are also quiet resting-places, where heart may commune with heart, where Jesus comes, too, unseen, and gives his blessing. All ordinances of Christian worship—seasons of prayer and devotion, hours of communion with God—are quiet resting-places.

Far more than we are apt to realize, do we need these silent times in our busy life, needing them all the more—the busier the life may be. Mary sat at Jesus' feet, and found green pastures and still waters there, and grew into marvelous sweetness of life and spirit. John lived near the heart of the Master; and abiding in that quiet resting-place, he went out with shining face, and became a transfigured disciple. We all need more quiet rest in God's green pastures. We would be better Christians if we had more such rest as these words suggest.

"He makes me to lie down in green pastures." Sometimes we are unwilling to rest. The world draws on our hearts, and we would go on in its ambitions without resting at God's feet. Even some Christian people are so busy with their work or with their pleasure, that they do not get time to pray, or even to sit down for a quiet half-hour with the Scripture. They do not realize, in thus depriving themselves of the privilege of communion with God, that they are starving their souls, laboring only for the food which perishes. Then sometimes God makesthem lie down to rest a while, that they may be renewed in spirit. Loving them too much to encourage their worldly absorption, he compels them to go aside to get the quiet that they so much need. It may be in a sick-room. It is not pleasant, not agreeable, and sometimes they chafe and repine. But they would better accept the Shepherd's guidance, even when it leads them into the darkened chamber of pain, for there they will find green pastures. We always may be sure of this. Whenever the Good Shepherd makes us lie down, there is blessing for us! And if we submit and trust, we shall be enriched in our spiritual life, and prepared for better service afterward.

A young Christian who had been for many weeks in a hospital, undergoing a painful operation and then slowly recovering, wrote me in the days of her convalescence, "I have found my little white bed here in the hospital, a bit of God's green pasture." Not only had it proved a place of rest and peace to her, but also a place of spiritual refreshment.

"He restores my soul." In several ways does the shepherd restore his sheep. If one wanders away, he goes out after it, and seeks it until he finds it, restoring it to the shelter of the fold. If one faints and grows sick by the way, in the hard journey or the burning heat—the shepherd does not leave it to die, but takes it up in his arms, and carries it home, restoring it to the fold. If a sheep is hurt, torn by a wild beast or injured by accident—the shepherd tends its wounds until they are healed.

All this suggests how our Good Shepherd restores our souls. Sometimes we wander away. It is very easy to drift off from Christ. The drifting is often unconscious—we do not know that we are losing our first love, our interest in prayer, our conscientiousness in obedience and service—and little by little, we are far off. Sometimes it is a cherished sin which eats out our heart-life. Sometimes it is a worldly companionship which draws us away, loosening the bonds which bound us to Christ. Sometimes it is an absorbing business which leaves no room for God. Or it may be the cares of this world which choke the Word and quench the Spirit. We need often to have our soul restored, quickened, revived—or we would never get safely home through this evil world.

Then, what soul is not sometimes hurt, wounded, torn—perhaps by sorrow, perhaps by the wild beasts of temptation? We all know how the Good Shepherd restores the hurt life. He is a most skillful physician. He binds up the broken spirit. Sin's wounds—he heals. We remember how David's own soul was restored after he had fallen. The terrible hurts were so healed—that he was a better man afterward than he had been before. Sin is a fearful thing. It wounds the soul, and no hand but Christ's can restore it. But if we put our hurt life into his hand, he will give healing. What millions of sin's woundings—has our Good Shepherd cured!

Then, when sorrow has left the heart broken, it is only the Good Shepherd who can restore it. We may put all sorrow's wounds into his hand. He is most gentle, and his hand is infinitely skillful. He is a wonderful comforter. No human hand can heal a heart that is bruised, but the hand of Jesus has infinite delicacy and skill.

"He restores my soul." The end of all Christ's restorings will be the putting back of the defaced divine image on the life of every one who trusts in him and follows him. "It does not yet appear what we shall be." God's work in us is not yet finished while we stay in this world. "But we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him!"

"He leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake." The Eastern shepherd does not drive his sheep—he leads them; he goes before them, and they follow him. He always has a purpose in his leading. He knows where the bits of green pasture are, and he would lead his flock to these. The way may be rough, but it is the right way to the pasture."Paths of righteousness" may not be straight paths; but they are paths that lead somewhere—to the right place. Many desert paths are illusive. They start out clear and plain, but soon they are lost in the sands. They go nowhere. But the paths of righteousness have a goal to which they unerringly lead.

It is one of the sweetest revealings of Christian life, that the Good Shepherd always leads his own. He does not drive them. We are not his sheep if we do not follow him. He puts forth the sheep, and goes before them. He calls his own sheep by name, and leads them out. In many ways does he lead. The mother gives the first divine guidance to the little child who looks up into her face with love and trust. Then, along the years, other hands are reached out to guide. We do not know how much of God's goodness comes to us in human hearts and lives. Sometimes it is a friend's wise counsel that you find just the word which makes the way plain for you.

Sometimes the guidance comes in a sermon or in a book. Or it may be in some simple experience of every-day life. A young man in great perplexity picked up a scrap of an old newspaper which he found on the street, and on it read words that made his way clear to him. Or the leading comes in a gentle friendship, with its quiet influence; or in a providencewhich makes duty very plain. In some way, at least, our Shepherd will always lead us, if we are willing to be led. The trouble too often is, not in trying to learn the way we should take, but in unwillingness to go as our Good Shepherd would lead us. We chafe and resist, and refuse to follow. We must be willing and obedient if we would have the divine guidance. We must trust God's wisdom rather than our own. We must commit our way to him with absolute confidence and unquestioning faith, following his guidance cheerfully, sweetly, wherever he may take us.

"Yes, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil—for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me." No doubt these words have lighted more souls into the valley of death, than any other one verse in the whole Bible. I shall attempt no explanation of them; they need none. Exposition only mars their beauty.

Probably the valley of the shadow of death is, more correctly, the valley of deep darkness. One who is familiar with the country in which the Psalms were written, readily understands the picture which was in the writer's mind. Some of the valleys or gorges are so deep as to be almost utterly dark. It is necessary ofttimes to lead the sheep through these gorges to get them to some bit of sweet pasture which lies beyond. Not only was there dreary gloom in these narrow valleys, but often in their dark caves, wild beasts had their lairs. Thus they would become indeed valleys of the shadow of death for the sheep, were it not for the presence of the shepherd. These gorges fitly represent every dreary and perilous way through which God's children may have to pass—most fitly of all, the way of death, through which every believer must go to reach heaven's blessed pasture lands which lie beyond.

The presence of the shepherd took away all fear from the sheep. He carried both rod and staff—the rod, a heavy club to defend the sheep against enemies; and the staff, a stick to lean upon, and to use also in lifting up any of his sheep or lambs which might fall into peril. These instruments of defense and help, comforted the sheep by assuring them that their shepherd would fight their battles, and bring them safely through.

Sometimes God's sheep, in their experience in this world, must pass through just such deep, dark valleys; and yet they need not be afraid, the Shepherd is with them. Not only is hewith them, but he is able and willing to defend them against all enemies, as well as to guide and help them through. This assurance comforts them. The presence of the Shepherd takes away all fear.

Life is full of illustrations. A child cries out in the night in terror. It is afraid in the darkness. The mother speaks, thus revealing her presence; and the child is comforted, and in a moment sleeps in peace. A timid one is afraid to go through some gloomy way. One brave and strong and unafraid, says, "I will go with you;" and all fear vanishes, and the timid heart becomes bold. "I will fear no evil—for you are with me."

We know how the presence of a strong, tried, trusted friend comforts us in any place of loneliness or danger. Were you ever in a strange city, where, amid all the throngs on the streets you saw no face you had ever seen before, none in which you perceived any token of recognition? You were oppressed by a dreadful sense of loneliness. Then suddenly you met a friend, one you had known long, and in whom you had confidence. What a sense of comfort this friend's presence gave you! Instantly your feeling of loneliness vanished. You were no longer afraid. This is the comfort which is described in the wonderful words of this psalm: "I will fear no evil—for you are with me."

An old Scotch shepherd found much comfort, when dying, in the words of his pastor, who said, "Don't you know that sometimes, when you were driving the sheep through the valleys, there would be shadows all about you, while there was bright sunshine on the hills above? You are in the shadows now, but there's sunshine on beyond." "Oh! that is good," said the shepherd. "I never saw it that way before. 'Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil—for you are with me.' Over yonder on the heavenly hilltops the sun is shining."

Shadows here, but sunshine beyond. That is the meaning of the valley. Only for a moment shadow, mystery, strangeness, and we are walking through it—and then light, glory, home, Christ's face—forever with the Lord. Let no believer ever be afraid. Even in the darkness, or what seems from this side, as we enter, to be darkness, we shall find our great Companion.

"You are with me, with rod and staff, and I shall be comforted." We need not be afraid in the valley; for Jesus will be with us, and he has all power and all grace. He has overcome the world; and in his hands are the nail-prints, reminding us both of his victory in fighting our battles, and his love in giving himself for us.

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