Psalm 23 — The Lord Is My Shepherd

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. 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 shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. This is Psalm twenty-three. Perhaps the most beloved poem in human history. King David wrote it three thousand years ago, possibly remembering his boyhood as a shepherd in the hills outside Bethlehem. He knew sheep. He knew what they need. He knew what a good shepherd does. Tonight, let me pray it slowly, and let it become true for me. The Lord is my shepherd. He is. Personally. Not the shepherd of humanity in general. My shepherd. He knows me by name. He counts me when He counts His flock. He notices if I am missing. I shall not want. He provides what I actually need. Not always what I want. Not always when I want it. But what I need, He gives. Daily bread. Daily grace. Daily love. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He insists on my rest. He sees that I am tired. He leads me to a place of stillness. The green pastures are not earned. They are given. He leads me beside still waters. The waters of baptism. The waters of refreshment. The water of His word. He knows I cannot live without water. He restores my soul. The deep work. The interior renovation. The healing of what no human can reach. Restore my soul tonight, Lord. He leads me in paths of righteousness. He is going somewhere with me. The path may twist, but it is going somewhere good. Following Him is always righteous, even when it does not feel like it. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. The valleys come. Real valleys. Real shadows. Real death, sometimes. He does not promise to spare me from the valleys. He promises to walk with me through them. I will fear no evil, for You are with me. Fear is healed by His presence, not by His removal of the threat. He is with me. That is enough. Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. The rod for protection from predators. The staff for guidance and to lift the fallen. He has both. He uses both for me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. He sets a feast in the middle of the battlefield. The Eucharist. The bread of pilgrims. He feeds me where the enemy can see, as a witness that I belong to Him. You anoint my head with oil. The shepherd's oil for sheep was a healing balm and a marker. I am marked. I am healed. I am set apart. My cup overflows. Generosity beyond what I asked. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. They follow me. I do not have to chase them. They are pursuing me. The hounds of heaven, as the poet Francis Thompson wrote. And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. The promise. The destination. Forever in His house. Forever loved. Forever home. I sleep tonight in this Psalm. Cradle me, Lord, in these ancient words. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.