Walking Through Shadows
How
can one small ant teach you anything? Ants are supposed to be wise,
resourceful, and, socially, highly organized creatures. But one ant?
One evening before our scouts
returned to camp from an afternoon hike, I decided to test this idea out with
one ant. Squatting against a juniper stump, I spied the little fella dashing
around by my foot. For my first test, I made a little hill in the dirt in front
of him. To the ant, it must have seemed like a mountain. And he scampered right
over that mountain. So, I then created a valley by scooping out a hole in his
path. He plunged straight down into that valley and up the other side without
breaking stride. relatively easy tests so far. So, next I placed a rock in his
path. He tried to climb it, fell back, tried again, appeared to reconsider,
then scurried around it. Picking up a twig, I tried once more to hinder his
progress. With a little more struggling, the ant found his way around the twig
as well.
It was my turn to reconsider. God
said, "Go
to the ant, O sluggard, Observe her ways and be wise." (Proverbs 6:6, nasb) The ways of this ant brought
another Scripture to mine: "Even though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me...." (Psalm
23:4a, NASB) Normally we interpret the verse as a source of comfort in the face
of death. And it certainly provides such comfort. On two occasions at the time
I first penned this meditation, two of my dearest friends each saw his father
"walk through the valley of the shadow of death" into the presence of
the Lord. And each knew and felt the comfort and the joy that only the Lord can
give in the midst of such difficult experiences. Both encouraged me by the
strength of their faith in our Great Shepherd and in His promise of a future
reunion. No wonder the death of a Christian brother is a celebration among the
saints. and difficulties.
But this Psalm means even more. The Hebrew word tsalmaveth means literally
"death-shade," a strong poetical expression for the profoundest
darkness. You see, it doesn't have to describe only the experience of facing
death, but can apply as well to all kinds of problems--the valley, the mountain,
the rock, the twig--or our human equivalents. The Psalmist suggests how to
handle them.
For instance, the first verb in the verse is walk through. In the Judean wilderness
where David led his flocks, there were narrow gorges and deep ravines filled
with real darkness. Any of them might possibly hide a wild beast lurking in the
darkness, waiting to pounce upon a sheep. No matter what perils or problems or
obstacles he faced in these ravines (or in his life), David, like my ant, walked through them all. Nothing in the
passage implies stopping or getting stuck with a problem and needing to stay
there. instead, David pressed on through all the experiences, confident of the
care of his Shepherd.
And we can walk through our shadows without fear because
"Thou art with me." If my ant knew any fear, he failed to show it.
But David could say he knew no fear because of the presence of God. A rabbi
once told of a devout man who was found sleeping alone in a desolate,
forbidding wilderness. Someone asked him, "Are you not afraid of the many
wild beasts?" to which he replied, "I am too ashamed before God to be
afraid of anything in the world except for Him." Similarly, David's heart
was so filled with the fear of God, the awe of God, that there was no room left
for the fear of anything else.
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