“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters; He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalm 23

There is change in the air; I can feel it. I stand on a gentle rise and see the banner in the distance snapping boldly, vivid colors weaving and twisting in the steady breeze. It’s been there, just beyond those high, craggy mountains, since the start of my journey with You, as a backdrop in a production. I feel very drawn to it, yet can’t quite explain the pull it has on me. Something bright under that banner catches my eye. What is that glinting in the sunlight? I survey the path opening before me in the soft grass, wildflowers nodding and dipping as the perfumed air lifts and tosses them about on their slender green stems. Such beauty here; such peace—must I leave this place? Is it already time to move on?

Memories return of days spent resting and healing when time seemed to stand still as I walked with You by the quiet waters, drinking in Your presence as You restored my soul. My scars have begun to fade, pieces of my shattered soul returned to their rightful places, stronger than before. My mind and spirit are full of the sweet memory of grace and mercy poured out over me as strongholds fell and angels rejoiced over the victory. Strength has returned to bones made weary from battles only fully comprehended in the Heavenlies. You revealed a pathway of righteousness and truth, and my feet were set upon it, leading me to Your place of safety and rest.

I turn toward the sound of Your footsteps coming toward me, firm and strong. “Come, child,” You say. “Today is the day.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready yet, Father; I’m not fully healed. Please, can I rest just a bit longer?”

I notice Your staff in Your hand and turn to look again at the path before me. Level at first, it seems to ascend, and not too far off, I see the beginnings of hills, and further in the distance, the mountains; bigger than the ones I journeyed through not so long ago. Can I do it? I sense something familiar and uneasy begin to rise in my throat, the tiniest whisper of Panic. No, I think, not again! Haven’t I passed through enough mountains? Haven’t I already stumbled through the darkest valleys? The grass stirs at my feet as You cradle my face in Your scarred hands.

You bend Your mouth to my ear, and You whisper, “You are stronger than you think, beloved. I AM here.” The scent of Your breath revives my soul, and fear is pushed away. The sight of Your Staff brings me comfort. Didn’t it beat back the brambles and reveal paths where there seemed to be none? Did it not stave off the enemy’s fatal blows as I passed through that last valley? And was it not there, always before me, as You led me around that mountain and parted the waters that threatened to engulf me? Yes, yes it was, and yes, yes, You were.

With renewed hope and remembered faith, I turn to face the path You’ve laid out before me. You are already walking, and I hurry to catch up to You. The beauty we pass as we walk side by side along this wide, easy path is breathtaking. The sights, scents, and sounds are water to my soul, and each grows stronger as You pass by, as if they know their Maker is in their midst. Joy!

We travel in comfortable silence for a good distance before You stop, looking beyond the mountains. I follow Your gaze to the snapping banner, past the last looming mountain. I look at You. You’re smiling. You are beautiful. Laughter rolls from Your lips, and You turn to me. “Wait ‘til you get there,” You say.

Time passes too quickly in this place of beauty, and soon the wildflowers begin to fade away, and I notice small rocks have replaced the quiet swish of the grass underfoot. The path narrows a bit, and the footing is less sure. I am paying more attention to the growing size of the rocks than to my surroundings and Your presence. Unpleasant memories of what happened last time I became distracted flood my mind. “Stay alert and focus on the Staff,” I chide myself. “Remember what you were taught.” I am not alone, and I am not forsaken. He makes a way when there seems to be none…remember…remember…

You are up ahead, walking with confidence and silent strength. I watch as Your Staff easily moves larger rocks and thorny bushes out of my way. You are not worried or concerned. You have my destination in mind, and You will not be swayed or deterred. Days go by as we walk this new path of rocks and brush, gnarled roots jutting up just enough to pose hazardous to my tired feet. I stumble frequently, and You patiently stop and help me up each time. Soon the sun dips out of sight, and night falls. The going is getting harder now, and I tire more easily. Sleep comes quickly as I lie down near You. I rest in Your peace. As I drift off to sleep, my mind is soothed and quieted, as the fears and worries of the day’s journey are eclipsed by the sound of You singing over me as I rest. I have never heard a lovelier sound. Heaven.

In the light of morning, I take in our surroundings. Today we start up the first of the mountains, having traveled over the hills for a while now. I’m not looking forward to this part of the trip. I have grown comfortable in the hills, and I remember what the mountains of the past held. The path is steeper and much narrower. Not that far ahead, the path winds and twists out of sight, and I cannot see ahead. Fear slowly and stealthily attaches itself to me, and I do not follow You as quickly or as closely as at the start of our journey.

I hear noises that frighten me as I pick my way up the path. Shadows flicker and slink in the dark shade of the boulders that line my path. Panic joins Fear, and my thoughts get muddled as their voices mock me.

“You are out of control,” they tease.

“You’d better make your own way; You are alone.”

“This way is much faster,” they reason smoothly.

“Go ahead and try it; you may just beat Him there.”

“Yes,” I say. “No harm in taking an easier route. I’ll plan it out myself; no sense in getting too tired and sore climbing over and sliding about on this slick, unknown path. This path over here looks well-worn and safe.”

Panic and Fear retreat a little, and Arrogance moves up to whisper in my ear, “You can do this, no problem. You can teach others how to navigate these mountains. Show them the shortcuts. You’ll be a pro.”

The well-worn path veers sharply to the left, and I march on with renewed self-importance. I can get there quicker, and it will save so much time and effort. How smooth and easy this new path is, why would anyone take that twisting and unknown one I was traveling? Briefly, an image of the brilliant banner flashes through my mind, but Arrogance and Self Reliance quickly distract me with a tantalizing reminder that I am in control now.

Pleased with myself, I continue down this wider path, lost in my self-serving thoughts. I notice it’s getting hard to breathe. It seems stuffy and stale, suffocating. The lightly fragranced breeze that was tousling my hair and buoying me onward has died away, and it’s very still. A bitter, pungent smell begins to filter through the still air. There is a distinct odor of decay and loss. This seems too familiar. I see the white glint of bones in the shadowy darkness descending around me. This path is wider but filled with death. No! No! I know this place; I know it. I know it, and I am terrified of it; wasn’t I just here?

Panic rushes forward, and I cannot think clearly. Fear and Dismay dance and leap around me, shrieking, laughing, knocking me down, convincing me I’m stuck, that there is no way out. I huddle alone on the ground, visions of a brightly colored banner streaming through my mind. If only I could get to it. Before the wet heaviness of despair fully falls, the faint sound of the sure and steady tread of familiar feet catches my attention. A glimpse of something solid and safe comes slowly into view.

It comes closer and stops above my head; the taunting jeers end. I look up and see You standing above me, the Staff in Your hand. The eyes I see looking down at me are filled with compassion and something deeper I can’t name, yet I respond to it willingly, feeling my parched throat soften and my ease of breathing return. I feel the sweet release, as what were the beginnings of chains clatter to the ground. You lift me up and carry me. As You take me through this deep, dark valley of shadows and death, I fear no evil. The mocking voices are silenced, the stench of death is overridden by the breath of Life.

There are more days of arduous travel left, yet Your Staff comforts me. There are more mountains to conquer, valleys to endure, storms to weather, and paths to be revealed. There are times when You go before me to show me the path and make my way clear, yet You are also behind me, hemming me in. My Protector. At other times, You walk by my side, Your hand resting gently, yet possessively on my shoulder. I am safe because I belong to You. I am Yours, and no words can describe what that knowledge does for my soul. Knowing my every thought and points of weakness, You speak out words of encouragement when snippets of mocking laughter or menacing shadows threaten to overwhelm or distract me. Fear, Panic, Dismay, and Arrogance have no place here. Prophesy flows out from Your mouth as You shout over me Your plans, Your vision, my destiny. It is more than I can take in; my thoughts are not Your thoughts, but Your Spirit captures those declarations and plants them deep in my soul, to be watered by my tears and looked after by Your very words which will not return to You void.

As I struggle on the slippery rocks of a steep slope, my fingers scrabbling for a handhold, You reach out Your right hand to me and pull me up over a craggy outcropping of rock. As You settle my feet on the ground, I see that the path is once again soft and smooth, caressing my feet after the pain and sharpness of the rocky trail. Ah, what a blessing.

“What do you see?” You breathe in my ear. “Look around, listen, and look.”

My eyes and ears are met by the vivid colors of the snapping banner. A steady, fragrant breeze billows it out and in, out and in. The colors are rich, deep, mesmerizing, colors of royalty, purity, and power. I can’t look away. There is safety here. I never want to leave. I look to You, and You throw back Your head, smiling and laughing! The sound is beautiful and untamed as it ripples out and out, echoing off the mountains, resounding through the trees. Joy fills my heart just hearing it.

“Keep looking, Daughter,” You shout, “I’ve only just begun!”

I scan the path ahead and notice a large open space. In it is a lavish table, set with the finest of dishes, glinting gold and silver with brilliant blue and brightest white. This is what I saw glittering near the banner at the start of this journey. You had already planned it and set it out for me? You prepared it for me and me alone? The magnitude of Your love descends and envelopes me. I weep without shame before You, completely captured by Your perfect, unconditional love. This is what I have been searching for in vain on those wide, well-worn paths, straying far from the narrow, uncertain one that You urged me to follow. I thought I could find it on my own. I thought I could control and command it. All along, You were leading me to it, in Your way, in Your time. I see it now.

On this table is the most sumptuous feast I have ever seen. Fruit ripened to perfection is strewn in perfect chaos around the table. Delicacies I have never encountered before are placed before me, and You gesture, I should eat. I do, and I taste Your goodness, faithfulness, patience, and generosity in every bite. In the middle of this beautiful table is a pure white marble fountain. The purest, clearest water bubbles up from its center. The water never stops flowing. Its source originates from the right hand of Your seat. Mercy. My cup runs over.

Every good and perfect gift does come from You. I have tasted it, and I have known it. I dine with You in the presence of my enemies. Fear, Arrogance, and Abuse; Rage, Pain, and Bitterness. They are there, watching from the paths I didn’t take, peeking from the thorny bushes that pricked me and drew blood. They taste defeat, while I taste victory, freedom, and deliverance.

As we dine together, you rise and stand next to me, raising a golden horn of oil above me. You anoint my head. I am chosen, wanted, redeemed, and purified in Your sight. You set Your seal upon me and pour out Your blessing over me.

“You have an open invitation at this table, child, do you not know? How long I have waited for you to come and dine with Me! Dwell here in My house all the days of your life. My goodness and love will follow you; watch for them, listen. Keep your eyes on My banner; never let it out of your sight.”

His banner over me is love.

Photo credit: cottonbro studio