Sheep and shells - mixed metaphors

What connection do sheep and shells have? 

And how did the saints of old ‘hear’ God’s voice? How did they know it was God’s voice? 

These were not the questions on my mind as I walked by the water yesterday. Instead, against my will, I was somewhat agitated about the quarterly cancer check that would take place just an hour or two later. With dogged determination, the godly part of my mind kept pulling my thoughts back to meditate on Psalm 23 – ‘The Lord is my shepherd’. 

There has been no sign of the cancer now for over a year. But there is still a distinct possibility that it could recur one day, hence the regular checks. 

The phrase that settled in my heart from that Psalm was this: “He restores my soul.”  

“My soul – yes – but he also leads us through the valley of death, where his rod and his staff comfort us,” the pessimist part of my brain stated factually. 

“Stop that train of thought right there and get back to focusing on God, your shepherd,” the more rational part of my mind directed.

*****

Sitting by the water’s edge a short time later, my gaze was drawn to a shell. It was along this shoreline some 18 months ago that God had used a broken shell to encourage me. I was reminded back then that even broken things have beauty and that the battering of the sea can be used by Him.  Now, however, it was not a broken shell that caught my attention, but a complete shell … or so it seemed.  Later, careful inspection would reveal that the edge was just a little ragged, and that the markings on it change quite obviously at one point with a crease marking the change – I wonder whether the creature that had called this shell ‘home’ had been through some trauma or change? Yet it is still whole, useful and beautiful.

Was that my internal voice, or was it a divine nudge? Given that God Himself has put His Spirit in me, it could have been either.

“I have made you whole again.”

Now that is taking the line, “He restores my soul” TOTALLY out of context. It is in keeping with several other special ‘words’ that have been given to me by others, but is it of God? Or is it just what I want to believe?

Squatting on the shell-littered sand, I carefully checked to ensure that ‘my’ shell was empty. Then I washed it in seawater, wrapped it in a tissue and put it in my bag. This is one symbol I shall treasure.

*****

Continuing along the bayside path, I pondered the nature of God as restorer. I often address God as Creator, Sustainer and Redeemer, but of course he is also restorer. In good time, all creation shall be restored – recreated, even – when we finally live in the new heavens and the new earth. But dare I believe that He has also restored my body for a while yet even now?

“The Good Shepherd calls His sheep by name … and His sheep know His voice.” (John 10:3-4) Again, I wonder how much is God gently reassuring me and how much is wishful thinking on my part. The context of John 10 was Jesus speaking to the Pharisees who did not recognize their Messiah. 

That being said, I know that God the Father, Jesus the Son and the indwelling Holy Spirit, know my name – my English name and my Chinese name both, and maybe a resurrection name as well. I was reminded afresh that my Chinese name, Suhui, similar to my English name, includes the word ‘su’-苏- which reminds me that God ‘restores -苏醒 - my soul. My name, in part, is taken directly from the Shepherd Psalm, something which I knew long ago but struck me with fresh force as I walked back along the bay towards the carpark. The last syllable of my Chinese name, ‘hui’, refers to grace.

Dare I believe that God has made me whole again?

What I believe is irrelevant. What is relevant is truth. And the truth is that God can heal and restore, but He doesn’t always – not while we live in a sin-sullied world. Yet I have a sixth sense that He has restored my body, and that it is now up to me to take good care of it.

I left the bayside and turned my little car (which I affectionately call ‘Shelly’ because of the number plate 5HL) towards the cancer hospital. Again, all was well. The young doctor who saw me this time (not the one I usually see) declared me healthy and whole, and also gave me a lecture about the importance of living a balanced and healthy lifestyle. It was almost as if she was reinforcing the ‘divine nudges’ I’d received from my bayside walk just an hour earlier.

With a skip in my step but a growl in my stomach, I left the hospital, passing the display of delicious gluten-free cookies in the café by the front door. Instead, I headed for Subway.  Why would I want a chocolate chip cookie when I could have a colourful and tasty salad? After all, I am Suhui, restored because of God’s grace.

“The Good Shepherd calls His sheep by name … and His sheep know His voice.” (John 10:3-4)