Morning Reflections: Psalm 23

A shepherd boy, who would later become a king, wrote these words nearly three thousand years ago. They’ve been spoken in hospital rooms and at championship games, in quiet moments of doubt and in loud moments of victory. For our first time together, I want to simply read them for you. Let them settle over you. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. There are two promises in that psalm that can change the shape of the day ahead. The first is about guidance. "He leads me." It doesn't say "He gave me a map." It says He leads.

That’s a very different thing. A map requires you to know the whole route, to see every turn before you take it. Leading just requires you to see the Shepherd, and to take the next step. Here's what that means if you're looking at your calendar today and feeling overwhelmed. You don't have to solve the entire day right now. You don't have to have the perfect strategy for that three o'clock meeting. You just have to handle the next single thing with integrity and care. Trust that the guidance for the step after that...

will come after that. One step. That's all that's required. The second promise is about peace. And this is the one that can feel impossible. "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies." Notice where the table is set. It’s not in a quiet room after the conflict is over. It’s not after your critics have gone home. The table — a place of nourishment, safety, and honor — is prepared right in the middle of the threat. Here's what that means if you’re walking into a day that feels hostile. Maybe it’s a difficult conversation with a family member, a tense project at work, or just the voice of your own inner critic.

The promise isn’t that the enemies will vanish. The promise is that a place of peace is available to you, even while they are still there. You can be sustained, right in the thick of it. The peace of God is not the absence of trouble. It is the presence of God right in the middle of it.