When You Look Back and See the Shepherd
Some Scriptures enter our lives long before we understand how deeply we will need them.
One of my earliest memories of faith is hearing my mother read Psalm 23 at night. Years later, as a teenager, I learned that she had read Psalm 23 because it was printed on my father’s obituary card. As a child, I knew the words. I heard about green pastures, still waters, dark valleys, a prepared table, and a Shepherd who remained near. I could not have understood then how those words would follow me into adulthood or how differently I would one day read them. As a child, I received Psalm 23 as a comforting passage. As an adult, I began to recognize it as a testimony of God’s presence in my life, not only in peaceful places, but also in the places that hurt.
“The Lord is my shepherd” became more than a familiar opening. It became an invitation to look back at my life and ask a different question. Instead of seeing only what was painful, missing, or difficult, could I also recognize the Shepherd who had been present? That did not require me to deny what happened. It required me to see that pain was not the entire story.
Faith Does Not Require Us to Rewrite the Past
There is a temptation within some faith communities to move too quickly toward a victorious conclusion. We want to say that everything happened for a reason, that the difficult season made us stronger, or that we have completely moved beyond it. Sometimes those words reflect genuine healing. At other times, they help us avoid acknowledging what an experience truly cost us. Healing does not require calling something good when it was harmful. It does not require minimizing loss, excusing mistreatment, or pretending that faithful people should remain unaffected by painful experiences.
When I look back over difficult memories, I do not have to rename the pain in order to recognize God’s presence. I can acknowledge what was broken and still thank God, the ultimate Restorer, for His faithfulness in broken places. Both truths can stand together. Something hurt me, and God remained near. I experienced loss, and I was not abandoned.
I did not understand the road, and the Shepherd continued leading me. This is not denial. It is a fuller telling of the story.
The Shepherd Is Present in the Valley
Psalm 23 does not promise that faithful people will avoid every valley. It says, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” and then points to the reason fear does not have to lead: “for thou art with me.” The comfort of the passage is not that valleys disappear. The comfort is that the Shepherd enters them with us.
Many people struggle with this because they expected faith to protect them from certain experiences. When hardship comes, they may wonder whether God has forgotten them, whether they made the wrong decision, or whether their faith was insufficient. Sometimes there are consequences connected to our choices. Sometimes wisdom requires us to change direction, establish boundaries, or take responsibility. But hardship itself is not proof that God has abandoned us.
The Shepherd’s presence may not always feel dramatic. It may appear through the strength to take one more step, the person who offers support at the right time, the conviction to leave what is harmful, or the quiet realization that the old way of living can no longer continue. Sometimes we recognize His presence while we are walking through the valley. Other times, we see it more clearly when we look back.
Looking Back Can Be Part of Healing
Looking back is not always the same as moving backward. Avoiding the past may provide temporary protection, especially when memories feel overwhelming. Yet experiences that remain unprocessed can continue influencing how we think, respond, trust, attach, and protect ourselves in the present. We may develop patterns that once helped us survive but now affect our relationships and emotional wellness. We may become overly independent, remain constantly alert, struggle to receive care, or attempt to control every possible outcome because uncertainty once felt unsafe.
Healing invites us to look back carefully, not to live there, but to understand what we carried forward...
For me, Psalm 23 became a part of that process. The words my mother read during childhood remained, but my understanding grew. I began to see the Shepherd not as a distant figure standing outside my memories, but as the One who had been present through them. This did not erase the pain. It changed the lens through which I viewed my life.
When we see only the injury, we may believe the injury has defined everything. When we also recognize God’s presence, we begin to see that the wound was real, but it was never the whole picture of who we were.
Faith Can Make Room for Honest Emotion
Recognizing God’s presence does not mean that we must feel peaceful every time we remember a difficult season. Healing can include grief, anger, confusion, disappointment, and questions that do not have immediate answers. These emotions are not automatically signs of spiritual failure.
The Bible contains lament because human beings experience sorrow. Scripture gives language to anguish because God already knows that faith and pain can occupy the same heart. We do not honor God by offering Him a version of ourselves that is polished but untrue. Honest prayer may sound like gratitude on one day and grief on another. It may include confidence, silence, questions, or the simple admission, “Lord, I know You are with me, but this still hurts.”
God is not threatened by emotional honesty. There is a difference between allowing an emotion to speak and allowing it to govern every decision. Faith does not demand that we silence our feelings. It helps us hold them within a larger truth. The valley is real, but so is the Shepherd.
Healing Is Often One Faithful Step at a Time
We sometimes imagine healing as one powerful moment in which everything changes. There may be meaningful breakthroughs, but much of healing occurs through ordinary, repeated choices. (1) We tell the truth about what happened. (2) We challenge a belief that no longer serves us. (3) We allow someone trustworthy to support us. (4) We establish a boundary. (5) We rest without apologizing. (6) We grieve what we did not receive. (7) We practice responding differently when an old wound is activated. Then we do it again...
Healing can be a journey of one faithful step after another.
The Shepherd leads, but we still walk. We participate in healing by responding to truth, using wisdom, seeking appropriate support, and making choices that reflect where we are going rather than only where we have been.
This is one reason I do not view faith and therapy as opposing paths. Therapy can help us understand the emotional and relational effects of our experiences. Faith can offer meaning, hope, identity, and the assurance that healing is not a journey we must walk alone. For clients who desire it, the two can work together thoughtfully and responsibly.
We Do Not Have to Glorify Pain to Recognize Purpose
There is a meaningful distinction between believing God can bring purpose from pain and believing the pain itself had to be good. Pain does not need to be glorified in order for God to redeem what follows it. We can be grateful for the wisdom, compassion, strength, or clarity that developed without becoming grateful for every harmful experience. We can recognize growth while still acknowledging that we deserved safety, care, protection, honesty, or support.
Redemption does not excuse what wounded us. It declares that what wounded us does not possess the final word. That distinction matters. It allows survivors to experience hope without being pressured to celebrate their suffering. It allows faith to support healing rather than bypass it. God’s faithfulness is not proven by pretending that nothing hurt. Sometimes it is revealed most clearly when we acknowledge that it did and recognize that He continued walking beside us.
What Do You See When You Look Back?
When you look over the faded memories of your past, what do you notice first? Perhaps you see the places where someone failed you, the prayers that seemed unanswered, the relationship that changed you, or the version of yourself who was doing everything possible to survive. Do not rush past those truths. Offer that person compassion. Then, when you are ready, look again.
Was there strength you could not explain at the time?
Was there a door that closed and later protected you?
Was there a person, Scripture, opportunity, or quiet conviction that helped you continue?
Did something within you keep reaching toward life even when you felt discouraged?
You may not find a simple explanation for everything. Faith does not always provide one.
But perhaps, among the memories, you will begin to recognize footprints that were not yours alone.
The Shepherd Was There
My testimony is not that every part of my journey was easy or that I understood God’s work while I was living through it. My testimony is that the words spoken over me in childhood remained. Psalm 23 followed me. The Shepherd was present before I had language for healing, and He remained present as I learned to see my story with greater honesty, compassion, and understanding.
When I look back now, I do not see only the pain. I see the Shepherd. I see the grace that preserved me, the truth that corrected me, and the faithfulness of God in broken places. I see that healing did not require me to erase the past. It invited me to recognize that I had never walked through it alone.
Perhaps that is the invitation Psalm 23 still offers us: not to deny the valley, but to discover that the valley was never absent of God.
*If you are located in Connecticut and would like support processing painful experiences, strengthening your emotional wellness, or thoughtfully integrating Christian faith into therapy, Stand Counseling & Coaching PLLC offers both in-person and telehealth services. Telehealth psychotherapy is available for individual clients located in Connecticut, and faith is incorporated only when desired by the client and clinically appropriate. Visit the Services page to learn more or request a consultation.
This article shares a limited personal reflection for educational and encouraging purposes. It is not a substitute for individualized mental health care, pastoral care, or medical treatment. Clients are never expected to share the author’s spiritual beliefs or interpret their experiences in the same manner.