I have found myself thinking for a while that we need better theology around the valley. The mountaintop has all its lofty (pun intended) theology and how great it is to be up on the mountain – like Moses, like Elijah, like Jesus. Mountaintop experiences are lauded and valued. You could say they’re held high (ba-dum bum!). In contrast, valley experiences are de-valued. Who wants to be in the valley? The valley is boring, or scary, or full of pain. It’s the valley of the shadow of death, after all.
However, last year, these lyrics from “Shall Not Want” by Elevation Worship and Maverick City Music spoke to my soul and have not let me go. First:
“I shall not want, I shall not want
Oh, my soul's got a shepherd in the valley and I shall not want”
My soul’s got a shepherd in the valley. If the mountaintop is where we usually go to expect to meet God, then what does that say about the valley? Is part of the imagery of the valley of the shadow of death that we feel alone and abandoned there? That God is not with us in the valley? No. Psalm 23, the inspiration for “Shall Not Want,” never mentions a mountain, only a valley. The Lord is my shepherd... in the valley. My soul is cared for and guided and nurtured and fed in the valley. I am not alone or abandoned in the valley of the shadow of death. God is with me. In the darkest night, my soul’s got a shepherd. In the deepest valley, my soul’s got a shepherd. The valley is not a God-forsaken place.
Second, from the same song:
“No, I will not stop, when the way gets hard
'Cause the green only grows in the valley
And that's where You are”
This line has had me really thinking about valleys. Valleys are where the towns are. You don’t find communities on mountaintops. Those are more likely to be barren, desolate places. Not much grows there. Towns certainly don’t spring up on mountaintops. Towns and cities develop and grow in the valley. I’m thinking of what it looks like when you drive into Charleston, West Virginia on I-64, or the view of Conshohocken, PA along I-76.
The city is in the valley. Why? Because that’s where the water is. These cities are all along rivers. The spring for these rivers may be up in the mountains, but there’s not enough water at that point for a community. You need the river basin, where the river becomes wider, where the land is a little flatter and easier to build on. That’s where life happens, in the valley. The green only grows in the valley because that’s where the water is, living water. There’s more water in the valley than there is on the mountaintop. There’s not much life on the mountaintop. On tall mountains there is a tree line, above which point trees cannot grow because it is too cold and there is not enough moisture. There’s not much oxygen on the mountaintop, either; that’s the number one risk mountain climbers face. It’s hard to breathe. You need oxygen and water for life. There’s a lot of life down in the valley. Your soul has a shepherd in the valley. You are not alone.
In the valley of the shadow of death, in the valley of dry bones in Ezekiel’s vision, you are not forgotten. You are not forsaken. Your soul has a shepherd. The valley is not as perilous a place as you may think it to be. Your needs will be provided for. Your soul will be cared for, and nurtured, and fed, and guided. Don’t discount the valley. It’s full of life and promise. The way will be hard. AND your soul has a shepherd in the valley.
As we enter Holy Week, knowing that the valley of the shadow of death is coming, may you feel the hand and guidance of the shepherd who walks the valley with you.
If you can name specific shepherds who have helped you along your rough times, I encourage you to name them below in the comments (first name only is fine) and if they’re still around, write them a thank-you note.