In The Valley

As I sit in the valley of the shadow of death, I'm looking at the journey behind me and every step it took me to end up here. It's sad here, and dark. 

Loss has been at every turn. I've realized that it doesn't wait to be invited, it comes most often in a blow that threatens to destroy everything you believe in and stand for. It doesn't care if it's your father, grandfather or if it's your dearest friends father, or a dear friends sister. It doesn't care if your son is 16 and weeps at the loss in his own life. It doesn't care if it's covenant relationships, health or sleep. It doesn't care if it's your peace, your resolve or your voice. Today it didn't care that it was a source of my greatest joy and unconditional love and companionship in my sweet pets that were robbed from me.

Loss is a familiar face that I've come to loathe and dread and expect. It's a tyrant that stands in opposition of the Cross and declares that His loss was not enough. 

Today, I'm grieving in a valley of nothing but loss and devastation and I'm angry and I'm broken and I have no understanding. Death. It's reeking and it's foul. It was the last enemy defeated by the work of the Cross but it's bold assault forgets that. 

In this valley, despite the rotting flesh, dead bones and stench of a demonic presence I also see a staff. It's a Shepherd's staff. I see in the distance, a green pasture and waters so still that His reflection is undeniable. So instead of sitting here in this valley any longer, I hear my Shepherd's voice... He promised to comfort me here. He promised I'll have rest. He's sitting at a table that He prepared, the demonic presence still here but not allowed at the table. The oil is being poured now... Excuse me while I go allow it to flow over my head as I lie in His lap and rest.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.... You are with me.