Psalm 23 is dear to my daughters and me. We memorized it during a season of drought as a means to shower ourselves with Truth. We recited it aloud nightly before bed and any time any of us was feeling anything but joy. I firmly believe speaking out Scripture is one of the greatest weapons we can have in our arsenal, and still recite Psalm 23 in the midst of struggle.
The words of this beloved psalm were deposited in my mind today. As the sun warmed my back, I was reminded that His goodness will follow me all the days of my life. I began to recite the psalm from the beginning and for the first time in the years its words have been engrained in my heart, I noticed something: the first three verses are the psalmist talking about God, while the remaining three are the psalmist talking to God.
I don’t know about you, but I feel completely different when I hear that someone has said something kind about me to another person than I do if that someone says the kind thing directly to me. There is something profoundly beautiful about receiving words of affirmation directly from someone as opposed to hearing them secondhand. There is a level of vulnerability that makes such an exchange more personal, more special, and more intimate.
I think we could agree that those who wrote the psalms did not necessarily struggle with being vulnerable with God, but I do wonder if Psalm 23 begins differently than it ends because of a lack of vulnerability. When I have allowed something - anything - to creep into the vulnerable space I share with my Jesus, it is more difficult for me to face Him. If I cannot face Him, I cannot speak to Him and I certainly cannot open my heart to Him. I have to remind myself of who He is before I am able to approach His throne.
Like he who penned Psalm 23, I have to speak out the Truth of who He is in order to have a properly postured heart. Only then can I praise Him for all of the beauty that He is, does, and will continue to do.