Psalm 23
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
Valleys are not short. It is said that the shortest valley in the world is Badwater Basin in California and that is seven and a half miles. Shorter than many I suppose, but if you are walking, and especially out of shape like myself— not really that short.
For a lot of Christians, Psalm 23 is their favorite passage. Admittedly, it was never mine. The imagery of walking through a valley of the shadow of death and someone preparing a table before me in the presence of my enemies kind of disqualified it as a favorite when I was young.
Recently though, the song “Still Waters” by Leanna Crawford presented this verse to me as an old acquaintance that I never really got to know the goodness of. And the words “…valley of the shadow of death” landed differently to me now.
Lately it feels like this valley of loss and heartache for me and several others that I love will never end. As a Christian, I crave and beg God for the still waters and the green pastures. I beg Him for me as well as for my friends. For the cup running over, for the restoring of all of our souls, and for goodness and mercy all the days of our lives. But just like when I was a child, I realize that I am disqualifying the chapter in its wholeness to edit out the parts that make me uncomfortable.
I learned how to draw shadows with charcoal when I was in art college my freshman year. We were taught essentially to coat our papers in the charcoal’s gritty darkness and coax images and shadows out by adding light with different types of blending sticks and erasers. After a while, even though I understood the process, it never ceased to amaze me how beautiful pieces of art with various gradients of light could come out of darkness that way.
As I have navigated my most recent experiences with grief, the process feels similar to me. The darkness feels enveloping, stifling, and endless, but just rubbing at the darkness and shadows makes light start to peek through. And that is where His restoration seems to take hold of my soul.
I realize that all of the darkness of the loss and fear of loss that myself and so many of my friends are experiencing is blinding us of the light of the relationships etched within that valley of shadows. But the Artist has other plans. Valleys may not be short, but they don’t last forever. God is casting light into the darkness from the home in the heavens He has prepared for us. Where there are no more tears, no more sickness, and no more pain.
Our shepherd leadeth us there.