Greetings one and all! Lauren reporting to you here from Devon, one of the most stunning pockets of the world I have ever seen. I’m here with the Transformational Index team, as they seek and discern what the next steps are for the TI tool, and it has been a lovely two days spent meeting, praying, and exploring the countryside.
I must admit that whilest doing aforementioned exploring, I may have made the inevitable comment to poor souls around me that I have felt a bit like I’m ambling through a Jane Austen novel… (Surely Mr. Darcy will pop by soon, eh?) And just to be even more sappy and typical about it all, in the land of dairy, I have written a poem inspired by sheep. Yes, I know.. It’s a bit unreal how cheesy (ah, dairy!) this is getting. But I daresay you would fall prey to the rolling hills and charming little creatures yourselves if you were here, and soon enough you’d be pretending to be Elizabeth Bennett right alongside of me!
So whilest marveling in the glory of our location today, I felt very much like Psalm 23 in the Bible was written just for me: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want/He makes me rest in fields of green, by quiet streams…” You see, in the midst of talking TI, we’ve been thinking a lot about big questions and big issues, and other quite business-y things like that. Which is such a beautiful and necessary thing! However, I mentioned to Becca on the team earlier today, I feel like Devon is the perfect place to have these intense planning sessions and analytical conversations, because we’re in such a peaceful and natural environment, away from the business and buzz of London… So the temptation to try to make things perfect or becomed stressed is tempered with the simplicity of sheep, if you will! And it’s in that very English, sheepy environment that I felt at home in Psalm 23, that I was being made to rest in fields of green, and I jotted down a little diddy I thought I would share:
My purpose is unknown, and yet I love all that I see
I’m one of the sheep grazing aimlessly in a pasture of most vivid green
and it’s then that I hear His voice; so gentle, sure, and unique-
And He tells me that today is today, and that is all I need.
He tells me that the sun will rise, whether I’m awake or whether I’m asleep
and He asks me to sing Him a song and simply sit and be.
I cannot convey the joy He gives, my Shepherd sweetly tending to me
Just to hear Him say, “Be here today” somehow sets my whole life free.