Well Supplied

Isaac Watts (1674-1748), who wrote  such beloved hymns as “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross” and “Joy to the World,” also wrote hundreds of hymns which are virtually unknown.Three of his lesser-known hymns are based on the well-known Psalm 23…and each one is a precious reminder of the wonder of having the Lord God as our Shepherd.  Below are the first stanzas from each of these three hymns.  Given the uncertainty of the world in which we live, and both the physical and spiritual needs we all have, these are stanzas well worthy of our contemplation!  I have bolded the wording which has had the greatest impact on my heart today. The phrase in italics comes in a close second.  The result:  Greater stillness of heart and trust in God’s care.

My Shepherd is the living Lord; Now shall my wants be well supplied; His providence and holy word Become my safety and my guide. My Shepherd will supply my need, Jehovah is his name; In pastures fresh he makes me feed, Beside the living stream. The Lord my Shepherd is, I shall be well supplied; Since he is mine and I am his, What can I want beside?

Not Quite Done with Thanksgiving

Although it is well past Thanksgiving Day, my heart is convicted of the need to meditate more on thankfulness.  Too often I find myself focused on the immediacy of life: the work, the need, the hardship, the disappointment, the busyness…and not focused on the accompanying blessings: the love, the care, the strength, the faithfulness, the comfort, the presence, and the provision of God (whether from Him directly, through providence, or though the ways He moves the hearts of His people).Today, God brought Psalm 23 to my remembrance. 

Whether or not your thoughts are still on Thanksgiving, may your heart be blessed by the way Issac Watts has poetically expressed the message of this well-loved psalm.  I highly recommend reading it aloud–and then choosing one thought to meditate on with thankfulness!

 My Shepherd will supply my need,
Jehovah is his name;
In pastures fresh he makes me feed,
Beside the living stream.
He brings my wand’ring spirit back
When I forsake his ways;
And leads me, for his mercy’s sake,
In paths of truth and grace.
When I walk through the shades of death,
Thy presence is my stay;
A word of thy supporting breath,
Drives all my fears away.
Thy hand, in sight of all my foes,
Doth still my table spread;
My cup with blessings overflows,
Thine oil anoints my head.
The sure provisions of my God
Attend me all my days:
O may thy house be mine abode,
And all my work be praise!
There would I find a settled rest,
While others go and come;
No more a stranger or a guest,
But like a child at home.