In studying Psalm 23, we find Yahweh as a gentle Shepherd and gracious Host. He leads, feeds, protects, provides, all in super-abundance. But what does a life look like when Yahweh isn’t our Shepherd? The following poem was written to express the futility of such a life.
I am my own shepherd.
I lead myself and feed myself, direct and protect myself.
And yet I find it never is enough.
Who has time to rest?
I’m running. Always running.
The withering weeds, unsatisfying
The turbulent waters, unsettling
My weary soul, wasting away, never to return
But my way is best. I am always right.
I’m doing all this to make a name for myself.
Don’t I look good? Just look at me.
But what if it gets dark? Deeply dark? Deathly dark?
I am now afraid. I am all alone. I am still alone.
No one by my side.
Now my enemies draw near and I have no defense.
I have nothing. I am empty. Drained.
Drained by my own self-sufficiencies.
Then I turn and look behind me.
Who’s there?
Nobody.
Then why do I feel followed?
It’s yesterday’s troubles… today’s fears… tomorrow’s worries.
All are already after me. Chasing me. Relentlessly.
They will always be there.
Every day.
They will never. Ever. Go away.