There are spasms of time when we walk “in the valley of the shadow of death.”
Living with mountains both to the east and the west, we see the dark fissures crisscrossing snow on the upper slopes. Living in the foothills we recognize the cold, shady spots on the road that rarely get sun in the winter and conceal black ice.
Eugene H. Peterson translates Psalm 23 in The Message.
“Even when the way goes through Death Valley,
I’m not afraid when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook makes me feel secure.”
Though we feel disconnected, we cannot sit while we watch normal activity swirl around us. We keep walking in the shadows, slowly.
King David’s final quatrain offers comfort.
“Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life.”