Back in the Autumn, I had an encounter with Psalm 23 – you know, one of those times when the same Bible passage comes up again and again in seemingly unconnected ways. The Psalm came up in my daily reading app and in a podcast. I was pleased – Psalm 23 is a beaut – full of reminders to rest, of the Father’s provision and of his gentle Holy Spirit restoring and protecting us. I thanked God and continued with my daily life. A few days later I was on a bus – lurching unceremoniously through rush-hour traffic. Turning my head to look through the rain-splattered window, I noticed we’d stopped in front of an African food shop. In the window, a large poster with, you guessed it – the words from Psalm 23.
This was getting freaky. I know that God has a habit of saying the same thing over and over when I haven%9