The Valley . . .

Well, it's been an interesting week. And interesting in a not-so-good kind of a way.

Unfortunately, I've been unable to find my copy of Purpose-Driven Church to do the next chapter. Mere probably knows where it is, but she was already asleep before I twigged to the fact that it was missing (and I know better than to wake her).

However, the sad events of this week have taught me something interesting, and I thought I'd publish a little devotion I put together for my Church last sunday, relating to what I have discovered.
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THE VALLEY
Psalm 23: 4-6

This week has been a tough one, as some of you will already know.

On Wednesday afternoon, I went onto Facebook, not expecting anything out of the ordinary. The first message I read was from one of last year’s Yr 12 group. It was a fairly regular tribute, the kind that you see when someone dies. Which is always sad, but generally kind of safe and remote.

Then I noticed something that would change everything. The name she was giving was “Emily”. And she linked to the FB page of one of her classmates.

Emily was a cheerful, bubbly kid. She was small and blonde. She reveled in her small size; Her Year Jersey read “Shawty”! She was also very likable. I can’t think of one person in her year that she didn’t get along with, and vice versa. She was a peacemaker.

It’s hard to know what goes on in a person’s heart, but she said she was a Christian, and I certainly saw no evidence to contradict that claim. And I guess I’d be in as much of a position as any other teacher to know, since I was her roll call teacher for two years.

Emily was absolutely beside herself with excitement about her 18th birthday and party, which would happen on Thursday and Friday respectively. I’d had a few discussions with her on FB, teasing her gently about her excitement. “You’d think you’ve never had a birthday before!” I said. She laughed, of course.

I wonder if I would have said that if I’d have known that she wouldn’t make it to that birthday.

Tuesday night she went to bed as normal. She had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong; her last Facebook status reveals only a newfound appreciation of Peanut M&Ms. She wasn’t drinking or taking drugs, and she hadn’t mentioned any health issues, mental or otherwise.

Emily never woke up on Wednesday.

It took about 12 hours for the news to spread through the School community.

Now, whilst this is a sad story, why do I mention it?

I do so because it illustrates something that I think many of us have experienced at one time or another. It’s something that is mentioned in a popular psalm – Psalm 23. In modern translations, verse 4 says “Though I walk through the darkest valley”.

This is an accurate translation, but it lacks the poetry of the older versions such as the King James version, or even the earliest version of the NIV; and I’m going to use it here:

“Though I walk through the valley of the Shadow of Death”.

We’re going to complete the sentence and look at what happens despite the Valley shortly. But first let’s look at that phrase.

On Thursday, which was otherwise a bleak and rainy day even without this situation, we had to break the news to the students and staff. Most of them had already heard the news through various social media systems, but some hadn’t, especially the Year 7 class (many of whom had only arrived at the school this year, and therefore had never met her).

What was interesting was that even in my Year 7 class that day, Emily’s death cast a really strong pall over everything we did that day. You could sense the sadness. It was hard for students who had never met the girl to understand why, but it was absolutely palpable to anyone there. Everyone from the Principal to the Photocopying lady was affected.

This wasn’t my first experience of it, but it was certainly one of my clearest examples of the situation David describes in Ps 23. I truly understood what it was like to “walk through the valley of the shadow of death”.

A shadow is cast by an object. It therefore takes on some of the characteristics of that object such as its size and general shape, although it can appear bigger than the object is. Since it’s actually a pattern of blocked light, it can obscure the presence of things that you can normally see.

In the same way, when we’re walking through the valley where we can sense the shadow of death, we see something that has the same general look and feel as death. It often appears bigger than it should, and when we’re there it can be hard to see or sense God. Perhaps that’s one reason why many people don’t seem to see Him these days – we live our lives very much in a permanent state of darkness and shadow.

Now, notice what follows in verse 5: God DOESN’T promise that we’ll avoid the Valley. In fact it’s inevitable. David doesn’t even say “If I walk through the valley of the Shadow of death; he says “WHEN”. We live in a fallen world where there are bad things that happen – wars, diseases, and 17 year old girls dropping dead the day before their birthday.

God simply promises that He will be there with us.

That’s an important point. No matter where you are, no matter what’s going on in your life, you are never alone.

Sometimes God works partly through His people. At School this week that’s been very evident. Even within the midst of their own grief, people have been looking out for each other, spending time with each other, praying for each other.

But there do come times when we face the Valley without other humans. We feel alone. And the amazing truth of this passage is this – even then, even when no-one else dares or cares to be with us, Our shepherd – our father in heaven – is still there, still caring, still listening.

The interesting thing is that line “Your rod and staff comfort me.”

Shepherds used to carry two simple tools – a rod and a staff. The staff was also called the “crook”, and it’s the long stick with a curved end that you see in all images of shepherds.

The rod was a weapon. It could be used to defend the sheep against predators. So from that point of view, we can understand that it might be comforting to the sheep. But it was also used to smack a sheep that went the wrong way! So maybe there’s an aspect of God’s correction in there too.

Certainly that can be said of the Crook. When a sheep strayed into a place the Shepherd couldn’t or shouldn’t go, the crook was a way that he could reach out and grasp the animal. So the crook is an instrument of direction.

Something to correct you, something to direct you, something to protect you. Poetic, isn’t it? We could put that into a song. But the reality is that we need God to do those three things. And whether He’s protecting, correcting or directing, each one of those is a reminder that He’s there, taking an active interest in our lives. So when you’re in that dark place, the Valley, anything God does is comforting – a hint that no matter how it feels, you are not alone.

There have been times in my life when my atheist friends’ gibes have almost hit home. But this week has not been one of them.

The reality is that when you pass through the Valley, it’s then that you sense God and His power. And it’s then that you truly realize what it is to be loved by God.