⁴"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 ESV

When I was a kid — which honestly feels like forever ago — my biggest fear was being in the dark. And I mean terrified. In the dark, every little noise suddenly got louder and eerier. Every ordinary object looked scarier, more hostile. And no matter how irrational it seemed, I always had that creeping feeling that something was lurking nearby.

But there were still moments — usually when I got hungry late at night — when I’d muster up all my courage to run downstairs to the kitchen.

I’d dart through the hallway like I was on a mission, heart pounding, flipping on every light switch I could find, just to grab a snack. And you better believe I sprinted back upstairs as fast as I could–tripping occasionally as I was moving so fast. Because being in the dark — even for a few seconds — made me feel vulnerable, unsafe, and completely alone.

Now that I’m older, I’ve realized something: a silly as this illustration was, that same feeling of exposure and shakiness doesn’t just happen in the dark anymore.

Sometimes life itself feels like that — like we’re walking through something shadowed and unfamiliar. Anxiety. Loss. Transition. Uncertainty. It can feel like you’re stuck in a hallway with no lights on, fumbling your way through, hoping and praying that you’re not alone.

But here’s the key part of Psalm 23:4 that often gets overlooked: David doesn’t say he stayed in the valley. He says, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” The valley is not the destination — it’s the path. And even more comforting is this: David knew he wasn’t walking through it alone. And going back to the illustration of me as a child running in the dark, being in the dark made me feel vulnerable and like I had no control whatsoever. So as we venture through these dark times in life we will often feel this exact same way. But accepting our weaknesses can be a good thing. Why? Because if dependence on God is the goal, then weakness is our advantage (2 Corinthians 12:9). 

You see, God doesn’t wait for us on the other side of the dark. He walks with us in it.
He is the light at the end of the tunnel — and the steady, comforting presence beside us the entire way.

And that changes everything.

It doesn’t mean we won’t face valleys. It doesn’t mean fear disappears instantly.
But it does mean that fear doesn’t get the final word. Because when we know who is walking with us, we can walk forward — even in the dark — with confidence, peace, and hope.

So whatever your “valley” looks like right now — whether it’s uncertainty about the future, loneliness, stress, or even just trying to keep your faith alive in a hard season — remember this: You’re not walking alone. Your Shepherd sees you. He’s with you. And He’s leading you through.

So, what valleys have you been trying to walk through alone, and what would it look like to truly let God walk with you through them?

Prayer

Father, thank You for being a God who doesn’t leave us in the dark. Thank You for walking with us through every valley, every fear, every unknown. Remind us that Your presence is our peace, even when the path ahead feels uncertain. Help us to trust You more deeply, to lean on You more fully, and to walk with courage — not because of our strength, but because You are with us. In Jesus’ name, amen.