My desire for the pen has been almost incessant, but time has simply not made way for desire. Encroaching deadlines should convince me to not sit for this post, but it seems that I must. My sweet mother's birthday was the 7th, and every intention to arrange some words has vaporized in my scurrying about.

I have been in Psalm 23, and misty thoughts have hovered dually regarding my Master and mother's care. I thank God for my dear mother, and especially for the wonderful and practical ways she has nurtured and tended to my life. My love of gardening, canning, and beauty stems from her, and truly no one has ever loved me as my ma. I suppose my understanding of unconditional love comes from her, and never has someone so selflessly given of themselves as she. I often treat her, like my Lord, with that kind of familiar irreverence that is damning, and inexcusable. Like my Lord though, she is gracious and slow to anger, and I am ever thankful for her! Thank you God, for the ministry of mothers.

My psalms class has landed me long in Psalm 23, and a day arrived for deck sitting, so, with whispering maples above, I sat in my chair while my Shepherd lead me off. The first line--nay, first two words held me captive, and as the text unfolded I found some trembling roused at "I shall not want." Philip Keller wrote a masterpiece on this Psalm called "A Shepherd looks at Psalm 23," and I highly recommend it. His study is from both a scholarly Biblical view, and that of several decades experience as a Shepherd in the mid-East. He takes this endearing piece, and with his wind worn hands, leads you to the stream where he sits you down to smell the dirt that feeds the sheep, therein strengthening every simile to nestle down perfectly in the believer's bosom. This day I was not in this book, but my eyes landed on the words of Matthew Henry, "More is implied than is expressed, not only, I shall not want, but, "I shall be supplied with whatever I need; and, if I have not every thing I desire, I may conclude it is either not fit for me or not good for me or I shall have it in due time."

These words landed as the timely drops beyond my windows, and I've concluded that I must post them somewhere blatant. These are the sweetest promises to a soul, for even through the valley, I have a Shepherd, leading, providing, and arranging my days and years through the tender orderings of His Providence and care. I have a Shepherd who gave up His life for His sheep, and continues arranging "goodness and lovingkindness to follow [literally pursue] me all the days of my life." Tomorrow beckons an answer from me, and I am told to answer him with the sufficiency of today, and look myself to the whirling of the lilies, whose glory shames my toil, and chastens my want.