I've been helping out at a Bible Study in town since I came back to uni, which has been an amazing thing to be involved in, with 99% of those that come being marginalised from society in some way or other. One guy who came recently is living in Julian House (JH) currently, and after seeing him in town a couple of times in the week I was disappointed to not see him on Wednesday night. On the way home I decided to pay a visit to JH and see if he was there, and we had a chat. C is a really great guy, and you wouldn't think to look at and speak to him that he was 'on the streets'. We spoke for a while and then I left, saying I'd see him soon.
As I was leaving I spoke briefly to those sitting on the steps of Manvers Street Baptist Church, above JH. I found this really tough. Many of these people, probably between their late 30s and early 50s, were acting as though they were in their late teens, and, well, they just seemed pretty messed up. Just as I was about to leave though, I could see that one of the guys was practically (if not actually) out cold. I didn't now what to do, but, with them close to JH, and having said a word to one of the others to make sure he was alright, I left them.
On the way home thought I kept thinking "should I have stayed?", "should I go back - pray with them, chat with them, call an ambulance?". I got home and was going to bed, and really felt as though I should go back. You start to think, is that me thinking this or is God speaking to me? I think I would have gone if I hadn't had to be up early, although at the back of my mind I was thinking God'd give me the strength to get through the day.
I wrestled with it and was going to go, but didn't in the end, but I just couldn't sleep for more than 30 mins or so at a time. I don't think I felt particularly guilty, which made me think maybe it was God speaking to me, but, I dunno, I just didn't go.
It brought up two things in my mind.
Firstly, I still don't appear to be getting any better at hearing God's voice, mainly because my prayer life is pretty rubbish, and that I seem to pray more when I'm down or need things - not a good way to build any relationship!
Secondly though, it reminded me of the reason why I started this blog. You see I went to bed thinking about the prayer meeting I would lead in the morning, having in my mind Psalm 23. What a beautiful Psalm about God's protection for his children, for his flock, that he gives us peace. But as I lay in my bed, squirming at whether I was making the right choice, this didn't seem to be the picture I had. Instead I thought of Luke 9:23-24, and taking up my cross. I didn't feel particularly peaceful, and there seemed to be a tension between these two passages. But the more I thought about it the more I realised that to have the peace from Psalm 23 you need to have the commitment of Luke 9:23-24. And as I type now, I'm realising that to have the strength to do what is asked in Luke 9:23-24 we need the the protection, comfort and unfailing love of Psalm 23, as we carry our crosses through the darkest valleys.
If we expect following God to be just 'Psalm 23' we'll be too comfortable and when trials come along we'll be unprepared. But nor can we just look at the Luke passage, and expect our lives to be a joyless struggle as we follow Him.
We pick up our crosses and we follow him, safe in the knowledge that he is our Shepherd, the Shepherd who will never let one sheep go astray.
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