Dear Husband has given me permission to share his "reverse paraphrase" of Psalm 23 from Disciple I Bible Study. Whereas I made God into an abusive parent, he swapped the positions of God and supplicant. The narrator in his version is a pastor trying to do it all by himself--and suffering a crisis of faith because of it.
For the Director of Music--of the Pastors, a Psalm of Lament
I am the Lord's shepherd; when I get through defending orthodoxy with my moribund sermons, God won't need anything. He can just relax--head out to pasture. Me, I'm slaving away over here to make God look good. I've got answers for all the hard questions, except who's gonna restore my soul when I'm weary and worn out from all this.
Sometimes it's touch and go--people wander through some pretty deep valleys--I try to get them to stop worrying and just be content in God. If they won't stop with the questions, I get worried. How are they going to get out of this? What if there isn't an answer?
We prepare tables for our flock--every week, every month; once in a while. We try to give them goodness and oil. Maybe it works, sometimes. But what if it doesn't? And who's gonna look out for them if I can't?
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