My son would like his Batman house back.
We’ve been packing in waves here in preparation for our move.
Several months ago, I started putting books and toys into boxes that we wanted to keep, but didn’t need right away, and then we hauled all of that to a storage facility for safe-keeping.
Then, the weekend before we listed our house for sale, we made another storage blitz and that’s when we packed up his Batman playhouse.
This was no problem until the day he pulled down his superhero toys and he had Batman and Robin and Green Lantern and Superman…..but no superhero lair to put them in.
I’ve tried to explain the process of moving to him and he understands bits and pieces of it, but when you’re three and you know you have a Batman house but your mom can’t pull it out for you to play with, that’s fairly tragic.
There’s one thing he knows for sure, though.
His Batman house will be at the new house for him, and he is holding onto that promise.
If we drive by the new house or stop in for an inspection, he reminds me, “My Batman house is at the new house.” Right, mom? Then I can play with it.”
Yes, baby, it will be there. Not yet, but soon.
This moving is a journey of preparation, stages and stages of letting go and moving on.
It will all be fresh and new and exciting, but it’s also an adjustment at times .
After all, he’s only known this one little house for his whole little life and he’s happy right here.
And he’s innocently unaware of most of the change on the horizon, just happily accepting the boxes stacking up and the repairs we’ve made. Mostly, he simply trusts us and keeps holding on to the hope and the promise that he’ll be playing with his Batman house again soon.
And I admire that about him.
I take it to heart as a girl who chafes against change and holds onto the old and familiar with all her might. I love how he sets his heart on hope, focuses his vision on the good, and trusts those who love him enough to lead him.
That should be me.
That should be us, trusting our Shepherd, the God who loves us so.
Not worrying over the journey or fretting over the unknown, but enjoying the beautiful unfolding of His perfect plans for us.
In Psalm 23, it says,
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
I love to think about those green pastures and still waters, but I’ve never considered before how the shepherd prepares nourishment, rest, provision, and blessing for his sheep.
He doesn’t just meander along, stumbling upon some green grass periodically.
Oh, here’s a little place to rest. Who knows when we’ll find such a place again! Enjoy, sheep!
Instead, Phillip Keller, the author of A Shepard Looks at Psalm 23, writes:
Green pastures don’t happen by chance. They are a product of tremendous labor, time, and skill in land use. They were the result of clearing rough rocky land, of tearing out brush and roots and stumps, of deep plowing and careful soil preparation, of seeding and planting special grains and legume, or irrigating with water and husbanding with care the crops and forage that would feed the sheep.
The Shepherd plans and prepares the future for His sheep.
Max Lucado puts it this way:
“Hence, when David says, ‘He makes me to lie down in green pastures,’ he is saying, ‘My Shepherd makes me lie down in his finished work” (Safe in the Shepherd’s Arms).
Wherever we find ourselves, God has prepared us for what we face….and prepared for us hope….and prepared for us calling….and prepared for us rest.
He prepares these green pastures and He prepares “a table before me in the presence of my enemies” (Psalm 23:5) because He knows there are times of rest and times of opposition.
He prepares good works for us to do here on earth (Ephesians 2:10) and is even now preparing our eternal home (John 14:3).
The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Deut. 31:8 ESV
God does both. He goes before us, preparing the way for us and preparing us for the way.
And He walks alongside us, never abandoning us along the way, always leading us to our home in Him where we can find rest in the work He’s finished.