A reflection on Psalm 23:5
There are days when the loudest war is the one inside my own head.
The enemies don’t show up in armor.
They come dressed as thoughts:
“You’re not safe.”
“You’re too much.”
“You’re not enough.”
“You’re alone in this.”
Sometimes it’s anxiety.
Sometimes it’s panic.
Sometimes it’s memories that won’t let go.
And it doesn’t take much to spiral—
to feel like you’re losing the battle before the day even begins.
But then I read these words again:
“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.”
(Psalm 23:5)
For a long time, I pictured this as a post-battle victory—after
walking through the valley of the shadow of death
God throwing a feast after the fight was over.
But that’s not what David says.
God sets the table while the enemies are still watching.
And not just watching—surrounding.
This isn’t a table of triumph.
It’s a table of defiance.
Right in the middle of the storm,
when my thoughts are racing,
when shame is circling,
when fear won’t back down—
the Shepherd comes close.
He doesn’t demand composure.
He doesn’t wait for quiet.
He anoints my head with oil.
Shepherds in David’s day did this to protect their sheep—
to keep flies and parasites from burrowing into their ears.
To guard the mind.
To soothe the wounds.
That oil wasn’t decorative.
It was defensive.
And then—He fills my cup.
Not because I feel strong.
But because He is near.
And here’s the most powerful part:
As He sets the table,
as He anoints my head,
as He fills my cup…
His actions whisper: “You are Mine.”
And every enemy—seen or unseen—
has to watch the care of the Shepherd.
Shame sees it.
Fear sees it.
The enemy sees it.
Because the Shepherd’s presence isn’t just comfort—
It’s claim.
Paul understood this kind of table.
“I have learned the secret of being content in every situation…”
(Philippians 4:12)
That’s not resignation.
It’s reorientation.
He wasn’t waiting for the war to end.
He had learned to eat with the Shepherd in the middle of it.
That’s the miracle of Psalm 23.
It’s not that the battle stops.
It’s that you’re no longer fighting alone.
And even if the valley is your mind,
and the war is still raging,
the Shepherd still says:
“Sit. Eat. You are Mine.”
A Prayer for the War Inside
Shepherd of my soul,
You see the noise before I speak it.
You know the thoughts that come uninvited—
the fear, the pressure, the ache I can’t name.
You don’t demand I clean it up.
You don’t flinch when my thoughts spiral.
You just… stay.
You prepare a table,
not when the war is over—
but while I’m still in it.
And You call me Yours.
So today, I choose to sit.
Even if my mind won’t settle.
Even if the enemies still linger.
I choose to sit with You.
Anoint my head.
Calm the swarm.
Fill my cup, even if my hands are still shaking.
Let Your presence speak louder than the lies.
I am Yours.
And You are here.
Amen.