Trusting Our Shepherd in the Darkness

Encouragement for Today: If today feels dark and difficult, know that Jesus walks with you through it and the light will dawn again.

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. (Psalm 23:4-5)

As we drove away, I glanced back to catch one last glimpse of our son as his figure faded into the distance. For two months we had painstakingly waited for this day to come, knowing it was the best thing for our sweet boy in order to get him the help and healing that we could no longer provide, but it was still one of the worst decisions a parent has to make. Not knowing how long it would be before we’d see him again, it felt as though someone had ripped out a piece of my heart, leaving it irreparably broken. 

I was sure the tears would finally erupt after months of holding them in as we quietly prepared for this day. But my eyes were as dry as the Colorado air around me. All I could do was stare out the window at the passing trees in silence. I was numb. Not because I didn’t care, but because the anguish felt so unbearable that I could feel nothing at all. 

Dusk began to fall as we drove through the mountain pass, and I could have sworn the mountain walls on either side of us were slowly closing in. In that moment, it was as if both my heart and physical surroundings were leading me straight into the valley of the shadow of death. All I could see was an inch in front of me. Beyond it was pitch blackness and the terror of the unknown. And then – some old familiar words echoed in my mind: 

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. (Psalm 23:4-5)

The words washed over me. I wanted to believe them with all my being. But the numbness felt impenetrable. 

Lord, I don’t know if I can do this, I prayed. How much can a mother’s heart endure before it completely shatters? We’ve prayed – no, pleaded – for our child’s healing for more than a decade. We’ve given everything within us to fight for him, and press on in the hope of healing for our little boy who has endured so much. Yet, here we are – the very place we’d worked so hard to avoid. The future feels bleak, the unknowns feel endless, and my tattered heart is hanging on by a thread. 

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. (Psalm 23:4-5)

Slowly the words began to spark a faint sense of comfort. Jesus didn’t say he would spare me from the valley of the shadow of death. He said that I will fear no evil because he is with me in it, guiding and comforting me when I can’t see one step in front of me.

I grasped onto this promise with everything I had. I didn’t know how the days, weeks, or months ahead would look, but he was with me in the valley at that moment. Every breath, every ache in my gut, every fearful thought – he was right there with me. All I could do was cling to his presence and rest in the promise that wherever this valley may lead, he will walk beside me every step of the way. 

The Light will Dawn

The months that followed were some of the most excruciating I’ve endured in my life, but I can attest to the fact that Christ was with my husband and I each step at a time. He nudged us to keep going when we wanted to just sit and wallow in misery; he gave us the strength and guidance we needed when we felt too paralyzed to make a decision; and some days, when the dam of tears finally did break, it was as if he just sat with us in our heartache and grief, comforting us with his presence. 

The day finally came when the darkness of the valley began to lift and we saw a faint light begin to dawn on the horizon. But by the time it did, I had seen and experienced the tangible presence and comfort of Jesus in ways like never before. And while we were fighting for faith and hope in the darkness, unbeknownst to us, God was doing a powerful work within our child’s heart and mind. It’s a season I would never want to endure again, but it’s also been a season that’s shown me the gentleness of Jesus in our pain and the power of God to work miracles in some of the darkest and most unlikely of places. 

Friend, as a Christian, we will all experience some intensity or length of the valley of the shadow of death in our journey of life. We may painstakingly watch our child endure heartache that we’re helpless to do anything about. We may have a dream or expectation that comes to a screeching halt with a life-altering diagnosis for ourselves, husband, or child. We may endure the anguish of looking at an ultrasound machine, only to see the lifeless form of our precious child, when only days before we were daydreaming of what was to come with each little heartbeat. Or maybe, one of our children will cause us to toss and turn at night as we grieve their choice to reject Christ and any attempt to speak into their life. 

Whatever deep sorrows that dark valley may contain for us, we have a Savior who not only walks with us through it, but who gently leads with compassion, comfort, and strength. I can attest to the truth that it’s in some of the darkest valleys that I’ve experienced the profound sweetness of Christ’s presence, provision, and power. And when we reach the other side, by God’s grace, we are profoundly different people. 

Today, as I reflect back on this uniquely painful season with our child, I may not know the end of the story, but I do know that me, my son, and family are under the everlasting arms of our good Shepherd. And if you are a child of God, you are too, my friend. 

Whatever you, your family, or child may be enduring today, may these words lead your heart to rest in the peace, comfort, and presence of Christ:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

    He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

    He restores my soul.

He leads 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 mercy shall follow me

    all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

    Forever. Psalm 23

Home is around the corner,

Sarah

*An adaptation from a chapter in He Gives More Grace

You connect with Sarah on Instagram here. 

To read more of Sarah’s writings, you can purchase a copy of He Gives More Grace: 30 Reflections for the Ups and Downs of Motherhood, Hope When It Hurts: 30 Biblical Reflections to help you grasp God’s purpose in your suffering), Tears and Tossings (short evangelistic resource on how God carries our sorrows), or Together Through the Storms (for married couples navigating the trials of life). Lastly, you can now order Sarah’s Pilgrim’s Progress inspired children’s book based on the account of the Prodigal Son, titled “The Long Road Home” (Crossway).