"I Shall Not Want" Finding Abundance in a World That Says There Isn't Enough

Have you ever been afraid? I’m talking about boot-shaking, knee-knocking, hiding in the closet, terrified? I have. The dark was my biggest fear during my growing up years. No one knew it but me, not my parents, not my friends, not even my sisters. If I was out in the neighborhood and darkness fell, I would run home as fast as my little legs would carry me, as if a monster was chasing me. I think that is how I achieved my success in track meets during my teen years.

I shared a bedroom with my two sisters. At one point, my bed was closest to the door, and our room was first in the hallway at the top of the stairs. The thought that an intruder in our home would find me first upon entering the upstairs paralyzed me. Each night, I would sleep facing the open door and look into the hallway, my eyes and thoughts fixed on the framed Bible quote that hung on the wall outside our bedroom. It read, 2 Timothy 1:7 — “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” I prayed that verse over and over each night before falling asleep.

Our parents took us to Sunday School every week. It was there that I learned the 23rd Psalm. The “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death” line gave me pause as a young girl, but the rest of the poem brought great comfort. We memorized things back then, and our teacher had us memorize the 23rd Psalm so we could draw on it throughout our lives whenever we found ourselves afraid. The words of this Psalm became quite dear to me as I learned to face my childhood fears. As an adult, they became much more than just a recipe for courage.

In my adult years, my fears have always been of more tangible things than the dark; not having enough, not being a good enough mom, or employee, not being able to save my daughter from cancer, or my husband from death, how I would manage without him, how to find the time to do everything that needs to be done, and simply, how to find answers for all of the challenges life was throwing my way.

A wise person once told me that if you can solve the problem of lack, you can solve (or heal) any problem. Whether the claim is lack of courage, lack of money, lack of ideas, lack of companionship, lack of health, lack of time, or a myriad of other claims of lack in our lives, I wanted to know how to turn lack into abundance in any situation, because if a belief in the power of lack is the root of all problems, the understanding of its antipode, abundance, must be the solution.

Circling back to the 23rd Psalm, I decided to do a deep dive into its history and meaning. What I discovered is fascinating. Here’s what we know…

Long before there were notebooks, computers, or even paper as we know it, a shepherd in the hills of ancient Israel found words to express one of humanity’s most enduring spiritual truths. Whether first sung beneath a starlit sky or recorded on an ancient scroll, whether written by a shepherd or a king, these words have traveled across three thousand years: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

Let’s start with the shepherds. In my research, I happened upon an article written by James K. Wallace titled, The Basque Sheepherder and the Shepherd Psalm. He wrote about a Basque herder named Ferando D’Alfonso,who was employed by a big Nevada sheep outfit. In Ferando’s history were at least 20 generations of Iberian shepherds.

Though there was a long absence from his homeland, Ferando still embraced and practiced the traditions and secrets that were handed down from generation to generation in his home country. The mysteries and religious solemnity that he learned in his native country guided his practices as a sheepherder in Nevada.

One starry night, after the sheep were bedded down next to a sparkling pool of still water, and as Wallace and Ferando began to bed down under their blankets for the night, D’Alfonso began to share a somewhat scholarly thesis, his own interpretation of the 23rd Psalm.

He spoke about how David and his ancestors knew sheep and their ways. He described how the 23rd Psalm became, from generation to generation, the lodestar for their calling. “A bulwark” were his words for the Psalm, for enduring hot stormy days, dark nights, and wild animals surrounding the herd. Then he began to unfold for Wallace the statements in the Psalm that described the simple duties and requirements of Holy Land shepherds throughout time.

D’Alfonso started with the first line of the Psalm, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” He went on to describe that the sheep instinctively knew that the shepherd would keep them safe, find verdant pastures for them to graze, find still waters at which they could drink, and keep them safe from all predators, and storms. The herd laid down each night to a peaceful, sweet sleep quietly knowing that in the morning the shepherd would once again guide their day.

One of my favorite parts of the article is one that I never knew before. It notes that each morning, each sheep takes its place in the grazing line, and stays in that position all day long. However, one time, each day, each sheep steps out of its place and goes to the shepherd for love and affection. To quote the description of this, “…the shepherd stretches out his hand and rubs the animal’s nose and ears, scratches its chin [and] whispers affectionately into its ears.” A few minutes later the sheep returns to its place in the feeding line.

Were you aware that there is an actual “Valley of the Shadow of Death?” The valley itself is 4 ½ miles long. It is south of Jericho Road leading from Jerusalem to the Dead Sea. The sheep have to be moved through this dangerous valley for seasonal feeding each year. There is a break in the path that requires each sheep to leap from the break to the other side. One side is about 18 inches higher than the other. At that point, the gully is about 8 feet deep. The shepherd stands ready at the break and prods or coaxes the sheep that are fearful to jump across with his rod. His staff is used to lift the sheep to safety who fall or slip into the gully.

The attempts of wild animals to steal the sheep from the herd are thwarted by the shepherd using the staff, or a sling, as a weapon. The sheep “fear no evil” because they know their shepherd will protect them.

The last lines of this poem sees the shepherd become the host. He “prepares a table” by clearing the pastures of poisonous plants before allowing the sheep to enter. At night, he lays his rod across the top of the gateway to the sheepfold and examines each sheep for injuries. At the gate, there is a “big earthen bowl of olive oil and a large jar of water.” If a sheep is found to have briars, dust in the eyes, or scratches, the shepherd taps the sheep’s back with his rod, and it quietly steps out of line. The shepherd treats the sheep’s injuries with olive oil. He then dips a cup into the bowl of water until it is overflowing, never just half full, thus the line in the Psalm, “my cup runneth over.” The injured sheep dips its nose into the water and drinks until it is fully refreshed.

After the last sheep has been tended to, the shepherd places his staff within reach, wraps himself in his blanket facing the sheep, and lies down for the night.

Having found and absorbed this article, it is easy to imagine God as our Shepherd, meeting our every need, and turning our feelings or fears of lack into our experience of abundance.

One of my favorite hymns, Hymn 148 in the Christian Science Hymnal has a line that reads, “My shepherd is beside me, and nothing can I lack.” I love that line, and along with it the understanding that because God is always and ever beside me, I can not lack anything I need to make my life complete.

The sheep do not need to know where tomorrow’s pasture lies. They need to know their shepherd. This is a striking way to approach the claim of lack and the spiritual certainty behind David’s words, “I shall not want.”