I’m a fan of rereading books, re-watching movies. The first time is for the shape of the story, the scale of the world, the direction of the plot. The second time — and third time, and fourth, if it’s good enough — is for the details. The way the story is told, the bits of foreshadowing and symbolism that I missed. It can also be for the nostalgia of it, bringing myself back to a place emotionally, full of the memories of my first experience of it. Or for memorizing the lyrics, the lines of a song, the good bits of dialogue. 

There are a lot of reasons I go back to a thing I like time and time again, but I get the most out of the times I go back to observe the details, as if I were a car mechanic that couldn’t just appreciate a nice ride but also had to get on one of those sled things and get up under it to see what’s going on.

It’s the same when I go back to the Bible. Emily talked last week about ingesting and digesting the Word, and that really resonated with me. That’s why I love studies like Finding I Am, that take a small aspect of the Bible or a particular story and really dig into the details. I’m a details person. 

I can also be a lost-in-the-details person if I’m not careful, so the week on “I Am the Good Shepherd” and “I Am the Gate” spoke to me personally. That sheep are dense creatures prone to straying — that’s me. 

Sometimes I feel it, eyes to the ground, examining this bit of grass and the next bit of grass and the next, the things I think are important that are as small as a blade of grass. Suddenly I look up, and realize my Shepherd has been trying to get my attention, that I’ve strayed away from the rest of the herd while I’ve followed this trail of things that seemed important at the time and slipped out of the well-worn ruts I should be in. And if I were Him, I would be sighing with impatience, grumbling at this terribly dense creature that is so hard to get through to. He’s not. He is long-suffering and He is patient with me. 

We were talking in my Finding I Am study group the other day about hearing God. For me, I don’t hear the divine glorious proclamations, the “You, my child, are meant for this wonderful future that I am about to make clear,” kind of thing. Usually I am nose to the ground, watching my blades of grass too closely. Instead, I get divine elbow nudges. “Hey, you. I’ve been calling you. Have you been paying attention? Look up.” And when I get that moment and look up at last, I see all these patterns that I’ve missed, like neon signs in hindsight, with big arrows pointing and flashing and so so obvious. “This! You’re supposed to be paying attention to this! There’s something you need to learn here! There’s someone you need to pay attention to! I put this here for you to see, so stop looking elsewhere!” 

There was a whole thing in that week of Finding I Am about knowing the Shepherd’s voice. I must be deafer than most. I’m particularly dense, even for a sheep. I know His elbow better. 

The thing is — the incredible, humbling thing — that no matter how far I’ve wandered away from the safer path, no matter how many others He has to keep an eye on (and speak to, and place divine neon signs for, and nudge back to the herd), He still comes out of his way for me. He will put up billboards to get my attention, He will be the sign-spinner on the side of the road (tedious as that must be). He will walk after me all the way that I’ve strayed just to nudge me and bring me back into His safety. 
Why? That’s just what a Good Shepherd does. 

All that gives Psalm 23 such a new depth for me now. Like rewatching a favorite movie or rereading a beloved novel, I look at it with a heightened awareness of my sheep-ness. I’ve gone over it again and again, rewritten the place it had in my heart with bold font. I’ve added my footnotes and scribblings in the margin, making it a prayer of my own, not just that rote bit of verse I’ve heard so often. 

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. 
And I am His sheep, and He has given me everything. 
He paints for me giant billboards,
He flashes for me neon signs,
For He knows I’m not always looking where I should.
 
He refreshes my soul. 
Even when I have wandered off from safety,
He comes and finds me. 
His patience and His willingness to chase me —
They comfort me.

...

Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, 
Seeking me across the hills where I have wandered,

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever,
In the safety of his flock.

He provides everything I need, from my most basic sustenance, to guidance, to the soul-deep refreshment that I can’t get on my own no matter how hard I try. All I have to do is stick with Him, let Him lead me instead of wandering down my own paths. All I have to do is get my head out of the grass now and again and check my surroundings, my nearness to my Shepherd. It’s that simple. It’s not always easy, now — it can be uncomfortable and convicting to see how easily I stray off the path, get lost in the grass. But it really is as simple as that.