Led by the Shepherd

 “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

This statement does not begin with the absence of needs, but with the presence of Someone. When David declares, “I shall not want,” he is not saying that he would never pass through valleys, pain, or loss. He is affirming something deeper: the Lord would not fail him. Before speaking of provision, David speaks of relationship.

I shall not want because He will not fail me.
If the Shepherd is present, even in the valley, there is no essential lack. There may be a lack of answers, strength, or understanding, but there will never be the absence of the Shepherd. The security of the psalm is not in what one has, but in Whom one has.

Nothing is promised to us apart from Him.
In truth, we already know much of the Bible, but we often forget its simplest and deepest truths.

Psalm 23 reminds us of this. There is no need to bring a “new truth,” as if the Word were outdated, but rather to allow God to bring renewal to our hearts through His living Word. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

When we read this psalm, we must remember who wrote it. David was a shepherd. He knew the work, the seasons, the care, the dangers, and the responsibilities. He spoke with authority about shepherding. And it is significant that he writes this psalm in a time of struggle, because it is often in times of trial that we declare what we truly believe.

Then the question arises: why the need for the valley? Why pass through the valley? Why walk in it?
The text does not say, “if I enter the valley,” but “even though I walk through the valley.” The valley is part of the path. Walking through the valley is not an accident; it is a reality of life.

In the region where David shepherded, the “valley of the shadow of death” was a real place—narrow, deep, rocky ravines used as mandatory passages between pastures. There were no alternative routes. To reach the destination, the shepherd had to lead his sheep through them. These valleys were dangerous: little light, constant shadows, hidden predators, risk of falling rocks, moisture, disease, and echoing sounds that intensified the fear of the flock. The valley was not chosen; it was crossed.

The valley is not the end; it is a means. A means of faith. A means through which we come to know ourselves better, to perceive what still needs to be treated within us, to mature until we reach full stature. It is in the valley that we become what God desires us to be, so that His Word may be fulfilled in us.

When God says, “You are with me,” He is affirming that we are not alone. This presence brings comfort and rest. The rod and the staff have meaning: the rod confronts the enemy; the staff rescues the sheep. One protects, the other guides. The rod defends; the staff pulls the sheep out of the pit.

Spiritually, the rod represents God’s action against what threatens us. It is a symbol of authority, protection, and the confrontation of evil. The staff reveals close care: God not only drives away danger, but draws near to the wounded, weary, or fallen sheep. Comfort is not only in God defeating the enemy, but in God rescuing us when we can no longer rise on our own.

We are not alone. This truth leads us to healing, strengthening, growth, and maturity. But it is necessary to read, to hear, and to remain in the Word, for faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God.

What God has prepared for us is not something superficial or merely emotional. Believing that it will pass is not self-motivation; it is dependence. It is not trusting in oneself, but trusting in Him. It is intimacy. It is reality. Therefore, I will not fear; I will not walk alone, for He is with me.

The Father’s presence in the valley does not immediately remove us from it, but strengthens us to cross through it. The shadow does not disappear at once, but He does not leave us trapped there, nor does He allow us to die in the valley.

The valley remains a valley, but the presence of the Shepherd redefines the experience. Danger still exists, but it does not govern the path. The shadow remains, but it does not have final power over those who are led.

At times, in the valley, we feel nothing. Even so, He is with us. God does not change according to our mood or emotions. He does not require us to be strong all the time or to understand everything. He is present in tears, in sighs, and even in fragile attempts to keep going.

“Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

And comfort is not the absence of pain.

Comfort lies in knowing that, as we walk, there is defense against what attacks us and care for when we fall. There is confrontation with the enemy and rescue for the sheep.

God does not merely see the valley; He intervenes in the valley. He protects us from dangers we cannot even see. He grants victories in battles we do not know are happening in the spiritual realm. He holds us when our strength is gone.

He strengthens the weary. When we have no strength even to pray, when we do not know how to pray, He intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. We did not choose Him; He chose us.

The shadows are not greater than our God. The valley is not deeper than His presence.
Therefore, do not give up. Remain confident.

He watches over His Word. And that Word reminds us that He loved us first. Faith is believing in Him, trusting that He will do what He promised, at the right time, in the right way.