In the past four months, I have lost my beloved counseling job due to restructuring, failed to secure another counseling position and felt convicted that it is time to move on to another profession/direction after spending nine years pursuing this goal, started to head into remission for an overactive thyroid disorder I developed almost a year ago only to lose employment and health insurance, qualified for Medicaid but had to switch doctors mid-treatment, and dealt with a medical crisis and extended medical care situation for the relative I am living with. So, as I am wrestling through anxiety and being overwhelmed on multiple fronts, I turned in my Bible the other day for some peace and comfort to, of course, Psalm 23. And do you know what I found? Some startling and uncomfortable details that I had not noticed before. Y’all, I have had this passage memorized since I was like 6. It’s the universal passage on comfort in times of trial and fear. It’s got all the great sound bites like fearing no evil in the valley of death, still waters and green pastures, and my cup runneth over. And for some reason, I feel like most of us read this passage and hear something like, “Yup, I’m really going through it right now. I’m in the valley. I’m surrounded by enemies. But, God’s gonna lead me out of this valley to green pastures and still waters. He’s gonna deliver me from this trial of poverty or famine or whatever and throw me a feast and that’ll show all these enemies and naysayers.” But, you know what I just found, much to my dismay? That is not what it says!

It doesn’t say He’s gonna yank me out of this valley (well, at least not until the last verse when “I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever”). It says, EVEN THOUGH I walk through this valley, I will fear no evil because He is with me and He will guide and protect me. Well, dang. That’s not exactly what I was hoping for. This is starting to not feel so warm and fuzzy anymore. It is starting to sound kind of intimidating and brave and stuff. Then, I noticed that the green pastures and still waters are mentioned before the valley, not after. What if the green pastures and still waters are not on the other side of the valley, but along the way, in the valley? And that’s why I need not fear in the valley, because I shall not want, even in this valley? Hmm, maybe that’s why He has to “make me lie down”–cause I’m thinking right about now, I’m still looking up at the valley of death on all sides, not at the green pasture under my feet.

But wait! It gets worse. While we’re here in the middle of this valley of death–as if that weren’t bad enough–suddenly we’re surrounded by enemies! And do you know what my Lord the Shepherd does? He prepares a banqueting table. I haven’t quite worked out yet how a sheep sits at a table, but putting that aside, here’s what I noticed about this: I used to think that this just meant God will continue to feed me in the presence of my enemies, and I’ll always have enough. You know, back to the whole “I shall not want” thing. And I’m sure it does mean that on one level. But this time around, I was reading in my study Bible and the footnote pointed out that the images of anointing my head with oil and filling a cup to overflowing are images of a victory banquet for the honored guest (aka the victor, presumably). And this has me really kind of miffed. I mean, is not that somewhat premature? Hello?! We are “in the presence of my enemies!” Aren’t You supposed to, like, go beat them all up with Your rod and send them packing first before we celebrate my victory? It seems a little presumptuous to be dripping in oil and spilling wine all down my shirt with all my enemies glaring at me from across the table, you know? Isn’t that likely to maybe, idk, provoke them? My Lord the Shepherd doesn’t seem to be overly concerned about this possibility. Actually, He doesn’t seem to be concerned at all–which is sort of making me question how much I’m worth to Him. Come on, who in their right mind throws a victory banquet in the middle of enemy territory, while surrounded by the actual enemy, and anoints their prey as the victor?! I mean, really!

You know who does that? The One who has already been their victim and has come back from the Valley of Death Himself. The One who can walk through the Valley of Death without being touched because He has already been swallowed by death and death couldn’t keep Him. Death can’t touch Him anymore, and neither can any of the enemies who live in its territory. Those enemies on the other side of the table, watching me get doused in oil and spill wine all over myself? They recognize my Lord the Shepherd. They remember the last time He was in this valley, when they came for Him, and they thought they won–and then He came back from the dead. They have known since that moment that their days are numbered and that one day it will be their turn. Maybe, just maybe, they are not glaring at me in eager anticipation of devouring me. Maybe they are staring at me in defeat as they watch me dripping in my Lord the Shepherd’s oil and thinking, “Well, that’s a wrap. She’s with Him. We can’t touch her now.”

My Lord the Shepherd is not particularly concerned that my enemies are present because He has already defeated them–even death–and He already knows my victory is a done deal. So, He celebrates, and He welcomes me to remember and celebrate the fact that this valley is not my defeat and these enemies are not my lords. While I would reeeeally, reeeeeally like Psalm 23 to say something like, “He lifts me up out of the valley and flies me over the heads of my enemies, while He zaps them all with lightning out of His fingertips. He carries me to green pastures and still waters far away from the valley, to my idyllic beachfront cottage, and makes me sip tea from cozy mugs. Surely sunshine and unicorns will follow me all the days of my life, and I will never have to struggle like this again.” (Well, actually, I’d prefer dolphins or fairies to unicorns, but you get the idea.) That’s not what He promises. But He does promise me, in the midst of my intense and painful struggle:

1. He will never leave my side. He will guide my steps and protect me from harm. (:4)
2. He will provide rest and refreshment for me, and will make me lie down when I forget. (:1-2)
3. He will restore the strength of my soul after every attack. (:2)
4. He will not allow evil to rule over me. (:4)
5. He has already secured my ultimate victory. (:5)
6. While I live here, in this valley, goodness and mercy shall follow me, even here, all the days of my life. (:6)
7. Even after this life is done, I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my Shepherd forever. (:6)

So, it would appear that I am not going to get out of this valley any time soon. And while whatever specific enemy I am facing down today may not be there tomorrow, it will just be replaced by a new challenge or trial. The presence of enemies is not going to disappear. They will just change their faces from time to time. However, I do not have to fear. I will always have green pastures and still waters to rest in and drink. My victory is already assured. And I am not in this battle alone. Maybe I should stop looking so ardently for a path that leads out of the valley and start looking more at my Lord the Shepherd. I’m sort of tired and hungry anyway, and He seems like He’s got this.