There is not just a valley but a deep chasm that separates what we know and what we feel. David, a soul so profoundly attuned to God’s own Spirit that God called him a man after His own heart, who penned that ode to peace in God’s grace, Psalm 23, is also the author of multiple Psalms overflowing with sorrow. The one who said he would fear no evil in the valley of the shadow of death despaired in a dry and thirsty land, wailed over the betrayal of his dear friend, soaked his bed with tears, struggled with a disquieted spirit within him. Did David need to meditate on his own Psalm 23? Yes.
It is so easy for us to fall off either side of the horse, to drive our emotional hot rods into the ditch on either side of the road. Sometimes we mistake the courage David took in knowing God was with him in the valley of the shadow of death as if David managed to be stoic, to keep a stiff upper lip. We confuse a steady faith with emotional distance. Or, we berate ourselves for failing to do so.
On the other hand, we can also come to those places where David is laying his heart bare and justify our lack of faith. We can enter so deeply into our hardships or our fears that we lose sight of His grace, His power and His compassion. We can cover our distrust of the Father with the flimsy bandage of “keeping it real.” We can echo the children of Israel and their grumbling against the Lord with the excuse that God will just have to accept our feelings.
Maturity is, in large part, that process by which we grow in our ability not just to have our feelings match our thoughts, but to have both match reality. We do not allow our feelings to run amok, to seize the reins, to paint our reality. Instead we instruct our wayward feelings with the truths of God’s Word. When I am afraid, I will call myself to trust in Him. I will recall to mind the innumerable deliverances by which He has rescued me and those who have gone before me. I will meditate on His promise that He loves me, that He will never leave me nor forsake me. I will sing of His grace flowing out of the side of my Redeemer. I will hide in the shadow of the wings of these truths- He is able and He is for me.
Maturity, however, isn’t something I have. It is something I work toward, something I mature into. It’s a process, not a destination. The fiery darts of the serpent come at us from all directions. Economic uncertainty, health scares, power grabs, relational strains, devious plots, besetting sins. To enter the fray, first I must be girded with the belt of truth. I must guard my heart with the breastplate of the righteousness of Christ. Then I will walk into the valley, into the darkness, into the battle, my feet shod in the gospel of peace. Then I will follow in His steps, for the Sower leads us.
