These words express the desire of the believer after Christ, and his longing for present communion with Him. Where doest Thou feed Thy flock? In Thy house? I will go, if I may find Thee there. In private prayer ? Then I will pray without ceasing. In the Word ? Then I will read it diligently. In Thine ordinances ? Then I will walk in them with all my heart.

Tell me where Thou feedest, for wherever Thou standest as the Shepherd, there will I lie down as a sheep; for none but Thyself can supply my need. I cannot be satisfied to be apart from Thee. My soul hungers and thirsts for the refreshment of Thy presence.

“Where dost Thou make Thy flock to rest at noon?” for whether at dawn or at noon, my only rest must be where Thou art and Thy beloved flock. My soul’s rest must be a grace-given rest, and can only be found in Thee. Where is the shadow of that rock? Why should I not repose beneath it?

“Why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?” Thou hast companions — why should I not be one? Satan tells me I am unworthy; but I always was unworthy, and yet Thou hast long loved me; and therefore my unworthiness cannot be a bar to my having fellowship with Thee now.

It is true I am weak in faith, and prone to fall, but my very feebleness is the reason why I should always be where Thou feedest Thy flock, that I may be strengthened, and preserved in safety beside the still waters.

Why should I turn aside? There is no reason why I should, but there are a thousand reasons why I should not, for Jesus beckons me to come. If He withdrew Himself a little, it is but to make me prize His presence more.

Now that I am grieved and distressed at being away from Him, He will lead me yet again to that sheltered nook where the lambs of His fold are sheltered from the burning sun.

We have lost the art of “resting at midday.” Many are slowly succumbing to the strain of life because they have forgotten how to rest. The steady stream, the continuous uniformity of life, is what kills.

Rest is not a sedative for the sick, but a tonic for the strong. It spells emancipation, illumination, transformation. It saves us from becoming slaves even of good works.

One of our Cambridge naturalists told me once of an experiment he had made with a pigeon. The bird had been born in a cage and had never been free; one day his owner took the bird out on the porch of the house and flung it into the air. To the naturalist’s surprise the bird’s capacity for flight was perfect. Round and round it flew as if born in the air; but soon its flight grew excited, panting, and the circles grew smaller, until at last the bird dashed full against its master’s breast and fell to the ground. What did it mean? It meant that, though the bird had inherited the instinct of flight, it had not inherited the capacity to stop, and if it had not risked the shock of a sudden halt the little life would have been panted out in the air.

Isn’t that a parable of many a modern life: completely endowed with the instinct of action but without the capacity to stop? Round and round life goes in its weary circle until it is almost dying at full speed. Any shock, even some severe experience, is a mercy if it checks the whirl. Sometimes God stops such a soul abruptly by some sharp blow of trouble, and the soul falls in despair at His Feet, and then He bends over it and says: “Be still, my child; be still, and know that I am God!” until by degrees the despair of trouble is changed into submission and obedience, and the poor, weary, fluttering life is made strong to fly again.

When, spurred by tasks unceasing or undone, You would seek rest afar, And cannot, though repose be rightly won— Rest where you are.

Neglect the needless; sanctify the rest; Move without stress or jar; With quiet of a spirit self-possessed Rest where you are.

Not in event, restriction, or release, Not in scenes near or far, But in ourselves are restlessness or peace: Rest where you are.

Where lives the soul lives God; His day, His world, No phantom mists need mar; His starry nights are tents of peace unfurled: Rest where you are.

Is it so long since we trod the road to our “resting-place,” that the path has become a jungle?

They constrained him, saying, Abide with us.

Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.

Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?

I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go.

Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.

I am come into my garden.

I said not unto the seed of Jacob, Seek ye me in vain.

Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.

I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.

The world seeth me no more; but, ye see me.