A Bible school teacher asked the children to go home and memorize the 23rd Psalm. On the following Sunday, she asked the kids for a volunteer to recite the Psalm. No one volunteered until finally one little girl raised her hand. In a small voice she began, “The Lord is my shepherd.” She paused, hesitated, and finally said, “And that’s all I know.” The teacher responded, “When you believe that, that is all you need to know.”
David didn’t say, “The Lord is a shepherd,” or “The Lord is like a shepherd.” He said, my shepherd. Personal. Intimate. The Creator of galaxies stoops low enough to guide sheep—sheep like you and me.
Sheep aren’t known for their brilliance. They wander and get stuck in places they shouldn’t be. Yet the Shepherd doesn’t shame them. He leads them. Feeds them. Fights for them. He knows their names and hears their cries.
To say “I shall not want” isn’t to claim a life without hardship. It’s to declare that in every valley, every shadow, every storm, we are not alone. Provision may not come in the form we expect, but it always comes.
When fear whispers, “You’re forgotten,” the Shepherd shouts, “You are mine.” When doubt says, “You’re not enough,” He reminds us, “I am.”
Always remember, the Shepherd walks ahead. And behind. And beside. You lack nothing—because you have Him.
I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.