Pressed into Submission

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Psalm 23:1-3 (NKJV)

I have a tendency to be stubborn. On Friday night visiting with friends, a discussion arose about something I feel strongly about. I was one of the few in the crowd who held to a certain position. There were about two dozen of us participating in the conversation, and while we all love each other, at times the talk grew heated. Finally, we turned to the need to give up control over the situation and submit to whatever God’s will was on the matter. In the end, we agreed to go home and pray about it. On a certain date, we will gather again to talk about what each of us thinks God would have us to do. I am convinced the decision that will be made in the future will be a wise one because we are seeking to follow God, and I am no longer so adamant that it be my way. It was important that that we looked at all sides and were exposed to some new ideas. I am grateful for friends who love me despite my strong opinions. On Saturday, I woke up and got dressed for work, but felt sick. I think it was a reaction to the flu shot I got the day before. I called a coworker to cover for me and went back to bed and slept until Noon! I felt much better, got up and fused the mountains I wrote about in my last post. I still felt washed out today and was tempted to stay home again, but figured I had better show up for Sunday School or someone would think I was pouting from Friday’s night’s discussion. The lesson in Sunday School was on Psalm 23, and as we studied the message there, the teacher talked again about submitting to God’s authority and following our Shepherd. He said that sheep often do not want to go where their shepherd takes them. They are willing to settle for sparse pastures or dangerous rocky cliffs. When they follow where their shepherd leads them, they are satisfied. I pressed on through my day despite feeling puny, but one thing continued to bother me. The mountains, when fused, shrank just enough that the glass no longer fit into its wrought iron holder. I fretted about it all day. This afternoon, I asked husband to take a look at it. I told him how I thought he should fix it, but he had other ideas. We argued a bit before I finally gave in and told him to do it his way. His idea was a good one, and it looks great now. What did he do? He put the metal stand into his drill press and compressed it to make it fit around the glass. He reshaped the metal into the form it needed to be. Funny how the subject of submitting kept coming up over and over again this weekend. I think maybe God is trying to tell me something, don’t you?