There are times when I find myself quietly observing people, watching how different personalities respond to the world around them. I often wonder what it must have been like to live in other time periods, in other cultures, where what seemed normal to one group of people might have appeared quite strange to another. Yet one trait appears to stretch across every age and place in human history: the desire for things. Of course, sometimes that desire grows from genuine need, shelter, food, medicine, safety. But at other times it grows from a different place altogether, a craving for possessions or experiences. We all know someone who seems to believe that the next purchase, the next upgrade, the next thing will finally bring contentment.
Which raises a deeper question that many of us quietly wrestle with: what creates that sense of urgency within us, the feeling that if we just had one more thing, then we would finally be satisfied? It can become an endless pursuit, searching for the right collection of circumstances or possessions that might finally settle our restless hearts. Yet scripture gently invites us to consider a different way of living, one rooted not in accumulation, but in trust. With that in mind, it is worth pausing for a moment to listen again to the familiar and steady words of Psalm 23.
The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures
and leads me beside still waters.
He revives my soul
and guides me along right pathways for his Name’s sake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I shall fear no evil;
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me;
you have anointed my head with oil,
and my cup is running over.
Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.— Psalm 23:1:61
I remember a moment in my own life that quietly taught me something about this idea of “want.” I had spent a few semesters at my local community college and had wonderful experiences there, but eventually I felt ready to spread my wings and try a larger university. At the community college level, Pell grants had helped tremendously, though at the time I didn’t fully understand just how significant that assistance really was. When I completed the registration process at a somewhat local private Christian university I planned to attend for the summer semester, it was time to visit the business office to take care of the financial side of things. I can still picture my dad pulling out his checkbook and writing the check that would cover that first semester. And it was then and there that it happened. Deep down I knew we didn’t really have the money for me to be there. As I watched him sign his name, something settled in my heart that day. I quietly resolved that future tuition payments would need to be my responsibility.
With various twists and turns along the way, it took me ten years to complete my undergraduate degree, far longer than most people around me. But semester by semester, class by class, I paid for each course as I had the money saved. I didn’t always know how the next step would happen, but somehow God provided along the way. What once felt like “lack” slowly became evidence of God’s provision.
Looking back, I can see other valleys where that same provision appeared. We lost almost everything in Hurricane Katrina, yet somehow we didn’t owe a penny more on our home after all the repairs were finished, and there were many. Later, I found myself without a job that had once been financially amazing for our family. Still, our bills were paid, and God opened the door to a new job I never would have expected. In recent years there have been health concerns and procedures, yet I find myself walking in strength and gratitude because of how God has sustained me. Look at God!
Here in Psalm 23, the word “want” is understood as lack. So when the psalmist writes, “I shall not be in want,” he is saying something deeper than simply having plenty of possessions. It means that under the care of the Shepherd, we will not lack what we truly need. If you’re like me, you understand something of this instinct as a parent. No matter how old our children become, we still carry that desire to provide for them. A child is always your child.
Growing up, I watched my own father live that reality. As a pastor, he worked a full-time job and often took on additional work wherever he could find it. He sold cars. He drove school buses. He did whatever was necessary to provide for his family. Looking back, I realize there were certainly things we lacked compared to others. But as a child, I never knew it. My mom cooked wonderful meals. We had what we needed. It was a simple life, and it was much like the lives of those around us at church and in our neighborhood. Our parents did what they believed God had called them to do so their children would not live in want.
Psalm 23 reminds us that life will include valleys. At times we will walk through seasons where the road feels uncertain, dark, or steep. Yet the promise of the psalm is not that valleys disappear, it is that we do not walk through them alone. The same Shepherd who leads us beside still waters also walks with us through the shadowed places. And somehow, along the way, goodness and mercy keep showing up beside us.
The valleys will come, but so will the hilltops. And beyond every valley and mountain stands the promise of the Father’s house, our ultimate place of rest. For those who trust in Christ, there will come a day when the journey ends in a place of perfect love, care, and no want forever.
As we walk this earth, we will all face those moments, sometimes more often than we would prefer, when we find ourselves in the dark valley. Yet the psalmist reminds us that there is always another side to the valley, and that God provides even in our moments of lack. You can wholeheartedly trust in this familiar lyric penned by my pal, Don Moen: “God will make a way where there seems to be no way!” Child of God, He holds you in the palm of His hand. Rest in that this week. Believe in Him. And allow Him to guide you through the valley toward your next mountaintop.
Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world: Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
—Book of Common Prayer2
Luke Gambill 