I Shall Not Want

Transcript

Hello, my friend… so glad you're with me today. This is By God's Call — day 268, I Shall Not Want.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. Psalm 23, verses 1 and 2.

Stay with that word for a moment. My shepherd. Not a shepherd. My shepherd. David was not reaching for a general idea — some distant God who manages the crowd from far away, nameless, untouched. He was describing a relationship. Personal. Close. The kind where you can say: I know this Shepherd — and He knows me. He knows my name. He knows my history. He knows the fears I carry quietly and the hopes I haven't let go of yet. God does not tend a distant flock. He tends you.

And that is why the promise that follows carries such weight. I shall not want. This is not a promise of wealth — don't mistake it for that. It is a promise of sufficiency. It is the Shepherd saying: as long as you are with me, what you truly need will be there. Maybe the landscape around you looks lean right now. Maybe the finances are tight, the health uncertain, the future hard to read. But whoever has the Lord as shepherd discovers — sometimes slowly, sometimes with surprise — that what truly matters is always provided. Always. Because the Shepherd provides.

He makes me lie down in green pastures. Notice what the text is saying: the shepherd chooses the place. The sheep does not have to go searching alone for somewhere to rest, somewhere to be fed, somewhere to recover strength. You do not have to carry the weight of finding it all on your own. God prepares spaces of renewal that you would never discover without Him. Places you didn't even know you needed until you arrived.

And then comes this beautiful image: still waters. Do you know why the shepherd leads the sheep to still waters, and not to rushing streams? Because sheep cannot drink from a torrent. The rushing drives them away. The noise of the world, the frantic pace, the urgency of everything pressing in — that does not feed the soul. The Good Shepherd leads us into a different rhythm. The rhythm of grace. And that peace is not the absence of trouble — it is the presence of Christ. He is the still water.

And the verb the Psalm uses is present tense. He leads — not He led. Jesus, who laid down His life for the sheep, is alive. He is active. He is guiding your every step today — not yesterday, not tomorrow: today. You are not walking through this day alone. The Shepherd is out in front.

So today, before breakfast, before you reach for your phone, before you let the world rush in — sit down. Two minutes. In quiet. And say out loud, with your own voice: The Lord is my shepherd — today I trust Him. Let that truth settle into your heart before the day begins. Not as an empty habit. As the declaration of someone who knows exactly who they are trusting.

Stay close to God. Pray — then act. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend.