A COLLECTION OF BOOKISH THOUGHTS

sharing my love of books with you

In Pastures Green, by F. W. Boreham

I have long admired the writings of F. W. Boreham. The first book of his which I read was Mountains in the Mist, a collection of essays covering subjects such as salvation, contentment, and other “lessons” learned from the people and natural world in which Boreham embedded his life.

Raised and educated in England, Boreham took a mission church in Australia where he spent the remainder of his life in ministry among the people he found there. He wrote extensively and published several volumes of essays throughout his life. I liken Boreham’s writings to that of a poet. The way he sees and describes things is similar to that of poets, using simplicity to capture pictures of eternity and using earthly examples to describe heavenly principles.

I suppose In Pastures Green could be considered a long essay, though my copy is published as a small book by itself. The full title is In Pastures Green: A Ramble through the Twenty-third Psalm. Boreham begins by describing the fear and inadequacy a young preacher may feel as he studies Psalm 23. Though the Psalm is dear to his heart, the young preacher may set it aside as a sermon text for many years for – though he may be eloquent in speech – his congregation – especially the elders in it – might have a far greater knowledge of and relationship with the Good Shepherd. And so it was for Boreham until years of wisdom learned from the Shepherd through ministry greyed his hair and he finally felt he could write with authority about that dear Shepherd.

The ramble begins with a description of the Shepherd, that Good Shepherd, the Shepherd who gave His life for the sheep: Jesus Christ. Then the sheep, lost in the wilderness. Then the wilderness. And what a beautiful sight we see as that Shepherd goes out to find the wandering sheep and bring them at last into pastures green.

As we know, the ramble would not be complete without a view of that Valley of the Shadow of Death. Yet, it is that Valley that makes the green pastures on the other side more lovely. Is it not the Shepherd who leads the way through the Shadowy Vale? And if we just follow in each of His steps, will he not keep us in safety there?

At last, the shadows flee and the eternal home comes into view. The sheep look back and see the leading and care of the Shepherd, at His ever-present goodness and mercy, and they cry with grateful hearts, “I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever!”

In Pastures Green is a short read. My copy is only 36 pages. It paints a beautiful picture of the Savior as he leads us, the sheep, toward Heaven. It is a cry to the wandering to seek Jesus for deliverance. And it is an encouragement to the sorrowful that the Valley of Shadow will eventually come to an end at the gates of Heaven. I encourage you to read through this little book and deepen your own relationship with the Good Shepherd.

F. W. Boreham Closes his Ramble through Psalm 23

“He who thinks much of the Shepherd – the Good Shepherd – the Shepherd who gives His life for the sheep; and of the goodness and mercy that follow him all his days; and of the House of the Lord in which, by redeeming grace, he will live for ever, is panoplied against all conceivable and inconceivable eventualities. He is proof against the shaking of all that can be shaken; secure against the taking of all that can be taken. He exults in being invincible and invulnerable. He feels himself to be more than conqueror. Having heard the Shepherd’s voice; having confided himself to the Shepherd’s care; and having resolved to follow the Shepherd wherever he goes, that happy man enjoys, in present experience and in fond anticipation, the full-orbed raptures of the life everlasting.”

In Pastures Green, F. W. Boreham, 2011

Surprise, by Billy Collins

This - 
according to the voice on the radio,
the host of a classical music program no less -
this is the birthday of Vivaldi.

He would be 325 years old today,
quite bent over, I would imagine,
and not able to see much through his watery eyes.

Surely, he would be deaf by now,
the clothes flaking off him,
hair pitiably sparse.

But we would throw a party for him anyway,
a surprise party where everyone
would hide behind the furniture to listen

for the tap of his cane on the pavement
and the sound of his dry, persistent cough.

("Surprise", by Billy Collins, printed in Nine Horses, 2002)

(Today, March 4, 2026, is Vivaldi’s 348th birthday. And my thirty-somethingth.)

God Understands Our Fear

Judges 7:9-11 And it came to pass the same night, that the Lord said unto him, Arise, get thee down unto the host; for I have delivered it into thine hand.  But if thou fear to go down, go thou with Phurah thy servant down to the host: And thou shalt hear what they say; and afterward shall thine hands be strengthened to go down unto the host.  Then he went down with Phurah his servant unto the outside of the armed men that were in the host.

Let’s take a quick walk through Judges 6-7: Gideon’s victory over the Midianites.  I was encouraged by what I found in this passage, and I hope you will be encouraged too.

The children of Israel turned away from the Lord, and He punished their wickedness by allowing the Midianites over power them for seven years.  The Midianites moved into the land of Israel, taking homes, land, and livestock.  The Israelites were forced to seek shelter in mountains and caves. They were impoverished and afraid.  The Midianites left no sustenance (Judges 6:4).  

Gideon, like his fellow countrymen, was afraid of the Midianites.  He had to thresh his wheat hiding behind a winepress. But the Lord came to him and said, “The Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valour” (Judges 6:12).  

Gideon responded by questioning the Lord:  If the Lord is with us, why are these bad things happening?  Didn’t He do miracles for our fathers?  Where is He now?  

The Lord didn’t get angry with Gideon’s response.  Instead, He told Gideon that he – Gideon – would save Israel from the Midianites.  

Gideon said, “I am poor and the youngest of my father’s house; I have no qualifications to drive out the enemy.” 

 The Lord responded, “Surely I will be with thee” (Judges 6:16).  

“I need a sign”, said Gideon.  “I need you to stay here ‘til I come back with a present for you.”  

It seems like a simple sign Gideon asked for, but when he returned the Lord was still there waiting for him.  Gideon prepared an offering for the Lord which the Lord received and set on fire, similar to the burning bush for Moses.  

At this point, Gideon knows he was talking to the same God who brought Israel out of Egypt.  He is going to deliver Israel again, this time by Gideon’s hand.  Even though he knows God is on his side, Gideon is afraid.  God commands that he break down the altar of Baal, but Gideon does it by night “because he feared his father’s household, and the men of the city” (Judges 6:27).  

After the alter of Baal was broken, Gideon called for reinforcements from four tribes of Israel to help defeat the Midianites.  When they were gathered, Gideon asked for two more signs from the Lord: first that the fleece he set out overnight be the only thing with dew on it, and second, the next night, that the fleece be the only thing that is dry.  God didn’t get impatient with Gideon because God understands human fear.  He understands that sometimes we need continual affirmation that He is right there beside us.  

Something else that was different about the signs of the fleece: Gideon wasn’t the only one present for those two signs.  I heard a preacher say once that perhaps the signs of the fleece were not for Gideon, but for the children of Israel, to assure them that Gideon was God’s chosen man.  Whether the signs of the fleece were for Gideon or for the children of Israel, God did not get impatient.  He gave them the signs that asked for to encourage them and remind them that He was definitely going to lead them to victory.  

Gideon’s army began with thirty-two thousand men, but God told them they were too many.  This was God’s battle, not Israel’s.  God had Gideon narrow down the men until he was left with three hundred.  I’m sure Gideon started to wonder, Why is God doing this?  What is going on?  How do three hundred defeat multitudes like the sand of the sea?

God knows just what we need and when we need it.  In His mercy, God gave Gideon a fourth sign without Gideon even having to ask for it.  God told Gideon to go into the camp of the Midianites, quietly, and then He said, “But if thou fear to go down, go thou with Phurah thy servant down to the host” (Judges 7:10).  God knew Gideon was afraid.  He didn’t chastise him for his fear.  He simply said, “If you’re afraid, don’t go alone.”  Gideon found his courage that night.  He found the ultimate sign that God was with him, a sign that he hadn’t asked for, but that God willingly gave him anyway.  He found two Midianites talking about a dream.  When one explained that a cake of barley bread rolled into the camp and toppled a tent, the other exclaimed, “This is nothing else save the sword of Gideon the son of Joash, a man of Israel: for into his hand hath God delivered Midian, and all the host” (Judges 7:14).  They didn’t know Gideon could hear them.  God provided the final bit of encouragement Gideon needed to lead his tiny army to victory. 

Gideon returned to his camp, divided his men, and surrounded the Midianites.  They brought lamps hidden inside clay pitchers and trumpets.  When the men were in position, they broke the pitchers, shone their lamps, blew on their trumpets, and cried, “The sword of the Lord and of Gideon” (Judges 7:20).  The Midianites were afraid and plunged into chaos trying to get away from Gideon.  They turned on each other as they fled.  Gideon, who had once been afraid, was now chasing a fleeing and frightened multitude.  Never again does the Bible say Gideon was afraid.  He chased the enemy out of Israel and sent the tribes to destroy enemy cities.  Gideon’s victory over Midian led to forty years of peace in Israel – peace without fear.

Did you notice throughout Judges 6-7 God never got impatient with Gideon’s fear?  He never chastised Gideon for being afraid.  He did not say “No” when Gideon asked for signs; He even gave a sign that Gideon didn’t ask for.  God understands that people feel fear, even when we know He is with us.  How do we combat fear?  We must maintain our relationship with Him by reading His Word and talking to Him through prayer.  The more we know the Word, the more we know the Lord of the Word.  Rest on His promises like this one: “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”  Since God cannot lie, then He most definitely is with us, just like He was with Gideon. 

I hope this encourages you today.  You are not alone.  You don’t have to face your fears alone.  God is with you.  He knows your fear, and He knows how to help you with that fear.  And, best of all, He wants to help you with your fear.

Don’t Hesitate, by Mary Oliver

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don't hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
and power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that's often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don't be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.

("Don't Hesitate" by Mary Oliver, printed in Devotions 2017)

Do Stones Feel? by Mary Oliver

Do stones feel?
Do they love their life?
Or does their patience drown out everything else?

When I walk on the beach I gather a few
white ones, dark ones, the multiple colors.
Don't worry, I say, I'l bring you back, and I do.

Is the tree as it rises delighted with its many branches,
each one like a poem?

Are the clouds glad to unburden their bundles of rain?

Most of the world says no, no, it's not possible.

I refuse to think to such a conclusion.
Too terrible it would be, to be wrong.

("Do Stones Feel?" by Mary Oliver, printed in Devotions 2017)

I Worried, by Mary Oliver

I worried a lot.  Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not, how shall
I correct it?

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.

("I Worried" by Mary Oliver, printed in Devotions 2017)

The Instant, by Mary Oliver

Today
one small snake lay, looped and
solitary
in the high grass, it

swirled to look, didn't
like what it saw
and was gone
in two pulses

forward and with no sound at all, only
two taps, in disarray, from
that other shy one,
my heart.

("The Instant" by Mary Oliver, printed in Devotions 2017)

The Poetry Teacher, by Mary Oliver

The university gave me a new, elegant
classroom to teach in. Only one thing,
they said. You can't bring your dog.
It's in my contract, I said. (I had
made sure of that.)

We bargained and I moved to an old
classroom in an old building. Propped
the door open. Kept a bowl of water
in the room. I could hear Ben among
other voices barking, howling in the
distance. Then they would all arrive -
Ben, his pals, maybe an unknown dog
or two, all of them thirsty and happy.
They drank, they flung themselves down
among the students. The students loved
it. They all wrote thirsty, happy poems.

("The Poetry Teacher" by Mary Oliver, printed in Devotions 2017)

On Meditating, Sort Of, by Mary Oliver

Meditation, so I've heard, is best accomplished
if you entertain a certain strict posture.
Frankly, I prefer just to lounge under a tree.
So why should I think I could ever be successful?

Some days I fall asleep, or land in that
even better place - half-asleep - where the world,
spring, summer, autumn, winter -
flies through my mind in its
hardy ascent and its uncompromising descent.

So I just lie like that, while distance and time
reveal their true attitudes: they never
heard of me, and never will, or ever need to.

Of course I wake up finally
thinking, how wonderful to be who I am,
made out of earth and water,
my own thoughts, my own fingerprints -
all that glorious, temporary stuff.

("On Meditating, Sort of" by Mary Oliver, printed in Devotions 2017)
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