"He makes you lie down in green pastures."

A thought by Louie Giglio, from his book, Don't Give the Enemy a Seat at Your Table. (p. 24). Thomas Nelson, Kindle Edition.  (Click on the book title to go to Amazon to buy the book.)

Yes He does and it's a good thing.

Louie says, "Sure, you can lie down on rocky ground if you want to. You can lie down in the heat and the dust. But Jesus says, Lie down in green pastures. Get some rest. Stop trying to manage all the outcomes. Take a break in the midst of the craziness of your day and acknowledge that I’m a Good Shepherd and I have your best interest at heart. By the way, while you’re resting, go ahead and eat some green grass. Allow Me to nourish your soul. That’s how I operate. I love you and take care of you, and any directive that I give you will be for your own benefit."

He goes on, "See, when God refers to us as sheep, it’s a reflection of how we are wired, although it’s not necessarily a compliment. Sheep need leadership. God’s not saying that we’re cute and cuddly. He’s saying it’s far too easy for us to have the wool pulled over our eyes. We don’t see with as much discernment as we should. We don’t even rest when we need to. When it comes to making decisions about our well-being, we’re not always überintellects.

"Any guesses why the water that the Good Shepherd (Psalm 23) leads His sheep to is specifically described as 'still'? It’s because sheep lack self-awareness. If a sheep sees a roaring river, it thinks that’s a good place to get its thirst quenched. Never mind that sheep are covered with five sweaters’ worth of wool. The sheep gets so jazzed at the sight of any water that he sticks his head straight down into that rushing river. All fifteen pounds of wool become soaking wet. Kersplash. The sheep gets sucked straight into the roaring river. Now he’s heading for the rapids, looking back for a bailout from the shepherd . . . baaaa!"

Louie continues, "Fortunately, the Good Shepherd carries a crook—a long, sturdy stick with a hook at one end. Whenever we start heading toward things that initially look good but ultimately lead to our destruction, Jesus pulls us back to safety. Provided, of course, we let Him lead. God doesn’t force us to follow Him. Sometimes only our noses become wet in the rushing water and Jesus catches us quickly. Sometimes we fight the Shepherd’s crook and dive straight into the river. We’re in the rapids now, heavy, soaked, and waterlogged, getting dragged under by the weight of our foolish choices. We’ve thumbed our sheep-noses for so long at the Shepherd that the river is washing us away to our destruction. We’re headed out to sea."

He then says, "I know I need a Good Shepherd. I’ve been a Christian for many years, yet I’m keenly aware of my need to constantly surrender the leadership of my life to God. I’m far too prone to stick my head into any rushing stream that looks good. I’m not as adept at making intelligent decisions as I think I am. I don’t naturally lie down in green pastures, so I welcome this command. I need the Good Shepherd to be near, and I need to listen for His voice when He says, No, Louie, we’re not drinking there. We’re not going up to the edge of Niagara Falls looking for our thirst to be quenched. Come over to this quiet little pool instead. Drink up at the quiet waters—and live. Leading us to still water is a foundational activity of a shepherd, and as such, it’s essential to what I want to talk about in this book—you winning the battle of your mind. . . In a word, the Good Shepherd is . . . good. Because of His great love for us, Jesus always acts with our ultimate well-being in mind. The goodness of God can be found in all He is and says and does.

And that is all so true, isn't it?

Yes, yes!