Restoration

 March 1, 2024

Psalm 23 has long been a source of strength and comfort to God’s people. This morning, I started reflecting upon it with my grandkids. I suspect we’ll be camping here for some time, but instead of starting at the beginning (just saying that makes me want to sing “Do, Re, Mi” from the Sound of Music), I want to start tonight in the middle of the psalm. A pastor friend shared this morning from the words, “he restores my soul.” 

Have you ever needed that? I’m sure you have; I know I’ve needed that restoration time and again. Life has a way of draining us; if it’s not a major crisis that temporarily knocks us off our feet, the daily grind can wear us down. Solomon said it well: “The little foxes…spoil the vine.” (Songs 2:15) 

I was once asked what qualities I bring to ministry. I thought about it and answered, “I’m an OK preacher and a terrible administrator, but the one thing I do well is, I don’t give up. I’m not aggressive, but when it comes to tenacity, I’m like a bulldog at holding on. But even for me, the little daily concerns, the weight of caring for people, and when I was actively pastoring, of leading the church, would over time simply take the wind out of my sails. At such times, my soul needed restoring. 

And it still needs restoring today. Just about the time I think I know what I’m doing and that life is settling down into a comfortable routine, something happens that blows it all to smithereens. I think it’s God’s way of making sure I keep trusting in him instead of my own wisdom and abilities. The challenges and switch-backs of life are not all bad; they can be gifts that keep us humbly calling out to God for the strength and wisdom we need to keep from going off the rails. One writer calls these “hard eucharistos,” ie. “difficult gifts of grace.”

So we return to that phrase, “he restores my soul,” with emphasis on the pronoun “he.” There’s only one place my soul—my deepest inner self—can be restored, renewed, revitalized, and that’s at the feet of Jesus Christ. He restores my soul—present tense, not “restored.” It’s a continual coming to Jesus so he can continually restore my soul. And if you come to him, he’ll restore yours, too.