By Emma.

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want;

he makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters;

he restores my soul.

Those are difficult words to pray when life has taken on the characteristics of a desert.

There are still moments when I miss the “green pastures” and “still waters” of religious life. There are still moments when I miss the hours set aside for prayer, simplicity of our cell, the laughter and smiles of the community, the folds of our habit, the quiet and simple work, the Stations of the Cross leading to the cemetery, the rattle of our side beads, the bells… Now there is even more that has been taken away due to the pandemic. So much more. I miss being able to pray with others. In person. In a Church. I miss being able to enter a Church. I miss going to Mass. I miss the Eucharist.

Yet I shall not want.

Jesus, the good shepherd, is the shepherd of my soul. He is mine, and I am His. That is what is important. That is all I need. Even when so much as been taken away, Jesus remains and He alone is enough. Although He has bound Himself to the Sacraments, He is not bound by them. He will continue to nourish my soul somehow and in some way. He will continue to lead me on the path of righteousness the Father has marked out for me from all eternity. He continues to come to me, and I can find rest and restoration in Him. Even here. In this desert. Even now. In the midst of the challenges and uncertainty.

Jesus is the green pasture. Jesus is the still water. Jesus is the restoration of my soul.

He always has been, and He always will be. And He cannot be taken away from me.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I fear no evil; for you are with me;

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

What has struck me most in the Gospel readings lately is how often Jesus seeks someone out and goes to them. “Jesus heard that they had cast him out, and having found him…” (John 9:35). “Jesus himself drew near and went with them.” (Luke 24:15) “she turned around and saw Jesus” (John 20:14).

How fitting it is that we should see Jesus seeking out His sheep in the days when He walked among us. “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” (John 10:11). Jesus laying down His life is not confined to one moment 2,000 years ago. The burning love that made the sacrifice of Calvary possible is still alive here and now. Jesus lays down His life for His sheep in the little things and the big things. No act is too small for love. He who hung upon the cross for me will not abandon me in the bitter valley.

When St. Therese found herself in the midst of darkness, she found herself turning not to the cry, “My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?” but rather, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for you are with me.” Jesus is the Good Shepherd. He will not abandon me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life;

and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

At first the verse “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies” seems nonsensical. Why would the good shepherd prepare a feast in the presence of enemies? Wouldn’t far away from the enemies be better? Yet in doing so, Jesus shows His true mastery over that which causes distress. So often I just want the difficult and unpleasant parts of life to just go away. Jesus shows His true power not through eliminating the difficulty, but rather through inviting me to feast in the midst of the difficulty and uncertainty. This harkens back to Isaiah 11:6 with “…the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.” To be at peace in the midst of tranquility is expected. To be at peace in the midst of tribulation and distress is a gift. A gift that Jesus invites us to receive each day.

In the end, we are all on pilgrimage to our heavenly homeland. “I am the good shepherd,” Jesus says; “I know my own and my own know me, as the Father knows me and I know the Father” (John 10 14-15). Jesus knows us. We are not anonymous to Him, the creator and shaper of our hearts. He knows our rising and our resting. He knows the path that will lead us home to eternity with Him. Some of us will spend the pilgrimage in convents and monasteries which are like little vestibules of heaven. Others of us will spend this pilgrimage reflecting the love of the Trinity through the Sacrament of marriage. Others of us will spend this pilgrimage living the mystery of Nazareth through the seeming ordinariness of our life. Many and fleeting are the paths that we take. One and eternal is the destination. May our steps always remain homeward bound. May our gaze always remain fixed on Jesus.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd.

I am His sheep.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd.

I shall not want.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd.

I find rest in Him.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd.

I am never alone.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd.

I trust in Him.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd.

I shall not fear.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd.

I am homeward bound.