Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Ps. 23:4
Evil. It slithers through our lives with deceptive wiles and oppressive intent waiting to coil and strike in the valley of the shadow of death. How should we respond? Should we be afraid? Recently I encountered this valley that David refers to in Psalm 23. Here is my response:
The wicked forces presenting themselves against us in death emit a potent nauseating stench. Suddenly we are faced with unwanted, irrevocable vacancies. We could not become more acutely aware of the power of evil and the consequences of sin than when death strikes with such hostility. Pending darkness absorbs prism colors of joy and abandons us to prisons of monochrome black. Haunting winds then recount the losses throughout sleepless nights, boasting of life’s chilling finalities. This is the valley of the shadow of death.
Thankfully, Psalm 23:4 reveals a valuable asset when confronted with this prison or valley of evil. God. God is our asset. I fear no evil; for Thou art with me. There is an immunity for those who trust in God, a blessed provision through the victory of Christ that Paul wrote of in 1 Corinthians 15:55, O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” Though death stings us, God has removed the stinger.
The entire 23rd Psalm is a hymn praising God for His provisions. The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want (lack). He leads, He restores, He guides For His name’s sake (Psalm 23:1-3). In this psalm, David includes God to be sufficient even in the valley of death. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. David sings of God’s presence despite the solitude in loss and there is enormous loss when someone we love is taken away. That heart we have exchanged love with is no longer present.
First, it can be realized from David’s writing that walking through this valley is a part of life. It is presented as a matter of fact, a commonality. David does not say, If I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, nor does he refer to the encounter as exceptional. Rather he presents death as a familiar encounter. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death… You can almost hear David say, “I have journeyed through this valley. You will too. But know this…God is with you.”
This valley is as deep as it is wide, beckoning every one of us to walk through it at some point. Think of the numbers of people who have gone since original sin spoiled our world. For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Ro 3:23). The wages of sin is death (Ro. 6:23). Everyone walks through this valley.
Secondly, it is notable that the pace of this journey is referred to as a walk, not a sprint. We might prefer it to be a race quickly run and won but it is not. Walking through this valley occurs at a slow pace, one that tantalizes with unnerving thoughts, coming from unknown places within the valley shadows. It is a time of temptation, as well as sorrow, a time when guilt ravishes the mind with doubt and unexpected inadequacies. It is a time when reflections are conflicted by sweet and sour memories, the sour attempting to expunge the sweet.
I will fear no evil. David refuses to give way to the sour thoughts of condemnation that cause us to grimace with guilt. Fear has no place in the heart of a believer. Neither does condemnation or evil. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Ro. 8:1). Faith is the key to facing these giants, our faith in a God who is faithful in times of trouble. For Thou art with me.
On September 27th, 2009 my father was summoned by our heavenly Father to a mansion prepared just for him. Jn.14:2. The reflection of such unparalleled grandeur brings me joy and peace on his behalf. However, while I rejoice for my dad in his new estate, there is a deep void left behind. My dad is gone. I am now walking, at times crawling, through the valley of the shadow of his death.
I sat by dad the night he died. He had just gone to bed, recovering from a successful kidney stone procedure earlier in the week. Suddenly, his body jerked as if electrocuted, rendering him unconscious. He exhaled with two short, quick coughs and then stopped breathing. Seconds prior to that, we were talking. I sat there stunned, staring at my father who suffered a fatal heart attack before my eyes. At that very moment, the earth stood still for me. Darkness shrouded all my senses with a suffocating cloak, crushing me with indescribable grief and pain. In an instant, I found myself in the valley of the shadow of death, sequestered by an authority far, far beyond my abilities.
Since Barry and I married in 1982, our family of nine has had to rebuild twice. Once after a major fire destroyed most of our house, then again after a tornado twisted through our neighborhood, picking up trees like toothpicks and removing houses unfortunate enough to be in its’ path. Each disaster required years of reconstruction and my dad was a major part of those. Now he is gone. How do we rebuild now? How do we deal with the huge void left in our family, one that is intangible unlike destroyed houses or fallen trees? David answers that with Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. With God’s faithful presence comes His faithful guidance. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want (lack). He leads me beside the still waters, He restores my soul.
It is comforting to know that we walk only through a valley of shadows when we face death. Death has no final power or claim. The grave cannot contain us. Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Cor. 15:57). Jesus overcame the power of all sin and therefore removed the penalty of death. This is why David says, I fear no evil. God is with us. There is nothing to fear.
Thank you Jesus for the love and life you have shed abroad in our hearts. May we honor and trust Your victorious name when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Amen
