“The LORD is my shepherd;
I shall not want.” — Psalm 23:1

Psalm 23 does not begin with a wish or a hope. It opens with a declaration of reality.

The LORD — YHWH — the faithful, self-existent, unchanging, promise-keeping God — is my shepherd. This is His revealed Name, not a title He assumes and not a role He tries on. There is only one like Him. There will never be another. David does not speak in metaphor first, but in certainty. What follows rests entirely on who God is.

And this Shepherd, though He shepherds all His sheep, is claimed personally. My shepherd. The statement implies trust, conviction, and dependence. David is not merely guided by God; his life is sustained by Him—provider, protector, and guide. Apart from the Shepherd, the sheep cannot survive.

Because the LORD is his shepherd, David can say, “I shall not want.” This is not denial of difficulty or ignorance of the future. It is confidence that every necessary thing will be provided—even when the path ahead is unclear.

The Shepherd does not drive His sheep relentlessly forward. He makes them lie down in green pastures. He seeks out places that are safe and nourishing, places where rest is possible. He leads them beside quiet waters—not rushing streams, but places where the sheep can drink freely and without fear. Along the journey, the Shepherd ensures there will be water enough.

When the sheep are weary, discouraged, or frightened, He restores their souls. He does not abandon them to exhaustion or despair. Restoration comes from Him alone. And He guides them in paths that lead to right standing—paths of righteousness—not to make the sheep look impressive, but for His name’s sake. God has chosen to let the way He cares for His people say something true about who He is. He leads rightly because He is faithful to His own character.

The Psalm does not pretend that valleys are avoidable. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” David knows fear, uncertainty, and seasons when the future is obscured. Yet even there, fear does not have the final word—for You are with me. This is not a fleeting comfort or a momentary reassurance. It is a settled, ongoing reality. God’s presence is not initiated by the valley, nor terminated by it. It precedes it, accompanies it, and remains after it—before, during, and beyond the darkest places.

The rod and the staff are not sentimental images. The rod is a weapon used to drive off predators. The staff rescues, hooks, and draws wandering sheep back to safety. Both tools require proximity. The Shepherd stays close enough that simple hand tools are sufficient. Comfort does not come from the absence of danger, but from the Shepherd’s nearness.

The Shepherd does more than protect—He provides. He prepares a table in the presence of enemies. This table is not escape from threat, but provision in the midst of it. The Shepherd does not merely stumble upon it; He prepares it, making space where the sheep can be sustained while He watches for danger. Provision does not require relocation. Danger may remain, but fear does not dominate.

The Shepherd anoints the sheep’s head with oil—to heal wounds, to repel irritants, and, in David’s experience, to consecrate and set apart. Care is personal and attentive. And the cup overflows. God does not merely give enough. He gives more than is required, more than is expected—the sheep are invited to celebrate the excess.

The Psalm closes with quiet confidence: “Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life.” This is not optimism; it is assurance. Everything God allows will ultimately serve His good purposes. His lovingkindness—His covenant-bound love—does not let go. It is rooted in promise, not performance. The sheep are not chasing God’s goodness and mercy; they are being pursued by them—not only on good days, nor only on obedient days, nor only on worship-filled days, but all the days.

And the journey ends where it has always been headed: “I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.” Goodness and lovingkindness do not merely accompany David through life; they escort him all the way home. Whatever else eternity may hold, it will include unbroken proximity to God’s presence. Eternity is defined not by location, but by nearness.

Psalm 23 is not the comfort of naïveté. It is the confidence of one who has walked the valleys and learned where safety truly lies—in the presence of the Shepherd, whose faithfulness never ends.


Closing Prayer

Shepherd of my soul,
quiet my restless heart and teach me to trust Your nearness.
When I walk through valleys I do not understand,
remind me that You are with me—before, during, and beyond them.
Guard me with Your strength, guide me with Your care,
and restore what fear and weariness have worn thin.
Let my life bear witness to who You are,
and lead me home in Your goodness and steadfast love.
Amen.


© Steve Wilkins — Grace in the Margins