The unexpected memory abruptly broke my focus as I listened to our leader read Psalm 23. Images of green pastures, still waters, and walking a path with the Good Shepherd were not supposed to trigger anxiety. Yet, here I was, praying that my reaction didn’t reveal that, unlike everyone else, I was not comforted by this song of David. At the same time, I didn’t quite understand why I felt this way at all.
Memorizing Psalm 23 as a child was a notable accomplishment. I mean, after all, those six verses added up to an entire chapter! This song, written by a former shepherd, reminded even the youngest believer of God’s goodness. As we recited the familiar words, we, too, could lie down in lush, green meadows. It was easy to imagine strolling beside a gently flowing brook or venturing securely down a forest path with certainty that it was where we needed to go. “The Lord is my shepherd,” we recited, thinking of the nurture and guidance He gives us.
Through the years, teachers, pastors, and devotional writers referenced the 23rd Psalm. They reminded us of the many ways that Jesus was the Good Shepherd. He provides every need, calms our fears, and covers us with His goodness and mercy all the days of our lives. But sometimes, the messages became a bit complicated. We were led to look deeper into the verses and learn more than simple serene images of grazing sheep. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want” became a lesson: we should trust that God would give us everything we need. The next logical assumption, then, was that if we lacked something, we weren’t fully trusting God or we didn’t need it anyway. We prayed that God would help us have content hearts and forgive us for our weak faith as we wanted unnecessary things.
But was this what David intended to express when he penned the lines?
I grew up in rural Ohio, among fields full of corn, cows, and sometimes sheep. Little facts and stories were often added to our study of this specific psalm. We were told how the rod and staff, highlighted in verse 4, helped keep the wandering sheep in line. Sometimes, this required a little discipline. In extreme cases, if a stubborn lamb refused to stay with the flock, they said, the shepherd would break its leg. This would stop the problematic behavior and require the lamb to remain in the concentrated care of the shepherd, carried close to his heart. The loving nurture would teach the lamb to stay near and trust the shepherd for the rest of its life. Therefore, we should be thankful for the Lord’s discipline, allowing Him to end our wayward behavior and teach us to rely on Him. For years, this was what I believed the psalm meant by “your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
Now, as I sat in this Bible study about the Good Shepherd, my anxiety was mixed with questions. I hadn’t realized that I internalized God as a disciplinarian whose holy word instructed us to love something that was painful. The idea that a shepherd would inflict harm upon a beloved lamb to force it to love him seemed a little like gaslighting to me. As soon as I had the opportunity, I did some fact-checking of my childhood lessons. What I found astounded me.
The stories were not true.
Accounts of shepherds disciplining lambs by force were not only mythical, but illogical. One article explained step-by-step how a shepherd could not have managed a flock while constantly toting an injured lamb or two. The approach would also not have been effective, because animals distrust those who hurt them. Furthermore, the rod and staff were not even disciplinary at all! Instead, the hooked staff pulled sheep to safety if thorns entangled them, while the rod fought off predators and protected the sheep. The Good Shepherd’s rod and staff truly bring comfort, as they represented the rescue and protection of Jesus!
For decades, I had internalized harmful theology.
I didn’t fully trust a God who would manipulate His children into loving Him. Discovering the truth behind the symbolism and the real character of the Good Shepherd flooded me with complex feelings: relief that something fearful was not a threat, anger at years of being taught and believing inaccurate information, wonder at the actual goodness and mercy of God that would follow me all the days of my life. My anxiety was replaced with…. could it be comfort?
The beauty of a life in faith is that the Good Shepherd is guiding us along the right paths. He is teaching us and revealing more of His character every day. As we follow Him, He protects us from misleading theology and the confines of anxiety. Examining and testing our beliefs can be extremely overwhelming. However, if we take one step at a time with our eyes on Jesus, He heals our hurts, comforts us, and helps us discern truth.
Together, we are a flock of fellow sheep. I want to encourage and support you as we follow the Shepherd. We are on this journey of faith together, learning side by side. I might get a few things wrong along the way, but fellow lamb, I share my story in case you have also been hurt by myths disguised as facts. I want to remind you that the Shepherd truly is good and merciful, and that He will fully provide what you need- not based on your level of faith but on His infinite supply of love. When we seek Him we will find Him, and that includes searching our beliefs as He refines us so we can know Him better.
I thank God that He used my anxiety to bring attention to a part of my heart that needed care and a place in my mind that needed clarification. I pray that you experience the nurture of the Good Shepherd in real and tangible ways this week.
May His protection and rescue bring you comfort.
Hi Malinda!
I love how your writing is threaded through with Scripture and your real life honesty! I've read several of your posts and keep being drawn in!
I serve with a women's ministry, Gracefully Truthful, and we currently have some writing positions (unpaid) open on our team. Reach out if you'd like more information!
Grace & Truth,
Rebecca
Rebecca@gracefullytruthful.com
www.gracefullytruthful.com