LET IT BE- Psalm 23
Let It Be
There is a phrase we use when we reach the end of our rope, when a situation is completely out of our control, or when we are simply too tired to fight anymore. We sigh, shake our heads, and say: *"Let it be."*
In 1970, Paul McCartney wrote a famous song by that exact name during a time of intense tension and fracturing within The Beatles. He fell asleep and had a dream about his late mother, Mary, who came to him in a moment of darkness and whispered words of comfort: *"It will be all right, just let it be."* It was a secular prayer for peace in the midst of chaos.
But three thousand years before that song was written, a shepherd boy turned king named David wrote a poem that captures the ultimate, divine version of "let it be." It is a song not of passive resignation, but of active, radical trust. We know it as Psalm 23.
When we look closely at this ancient song, we find that it invites us into three profound shifts—three ways to truly "let it be" under the care of a loving Shepherd.
### 1. Let It Be Enough: The Shift from Scarcity to Contentment
David begins with a declaration that challenges the very fabric of our modern, restless lives:
> *"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want."* (Psalm 23:1)
>
To say "I shall not want" doesn't mean we will never experience desire or lack. It means that because the Lord is our Shepherd, what we have right now is *enough*.
We live in a world driven by the myth of scarcity. The internal narrative of our culture is constantly whispering: *You need more money, a better title, a different relationship, a more secure future.* We are trapped on a treadmill of striving.
But David, a king who had access to every luxury imaginable, realized that fulfillment doesn't come from the abundance of possessions; it comes from the presence of the Provider. When we say "let it be" in this context, we are declaring: *Lord, You are my Shepherd, and Your presence is enough for me today. I release the frantic need for more.*
### 2. Let It Be Restful: The Shift from Striving to Receiving
Left to themselves, sheep are anxious creatures. They will not lie down if they are hungry, if they are plagued by pests, or if they feel threatened. They cannot create their own peace. They require a shepherd to intervene.
> *"He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul..."* (Psalm 23:2-3)
>
Notice the phrasing: *He makes me to lie down.* Sometimes, God loves us too much to let us keep running ourselves into the ground. He interrupts our frantic pace. He leads us to "still waters"—literally "waters of rest."
Many of us carry a deep, quiet exhaustion in our souls. We wear our busyness like a badge of honor. But spiritual restoration cannot be achieved; it can only be received. To "let it be" means allowing ourselves to stop. It means accepting the Sabbath rest God offers, trusting that the world will keep turning even when we step away from the controls.
### 3. Let It Be Unafraid: The Shift from Panic to Presence
The turning point of the Psalm happens when the landscape changes. The green pastures give way to a sunless ravine.
> *"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me."* (Psalm 23:4)
>
Notice how David’s language shifts here. In the first three verses, he talks *about* God ("He makes me... He leads me..."). But in the valley, he talks *to* God ("for *You* are with me"). The valley turns a description into a relationship.
We all face valleys—the valley of grief, the valley of a medical diagnosis, the valley of financial strain or broken relationships. Notice that God doesn’t always fly us *over* the valley; He walks us *through* it. And David doesn't say "I feel no sadness" or "I feel no pain." He says, "I will fear no evil." Why? Because of the Shepherd's presence, symbolized by the rod (for protection) and the staff (for direction).
When we are in the valley, "let it be" means letting go of the demand for immediate answers or immediate escape, and instead anchoring ourselves to the truth that we are not alone.
### The Table and the Journey's End
The Psalm concludes not in a wild wilderness, but at a lavish banquet table.
> *"You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over."* (Psalm 23:5)
>
Even while the enemies—the anxieties, the critics, the pressures of life—are still standing at the perimeter, God invites us to sit down and feast. He anoints us with the oil of healing and gladness. He fills our cup to overflowing.
And look at what follows us out of that banquet hall:
> *"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."* (Psalm 23:6)
>
The Hebrew word for "follow" here is much more aggressive than it sounds in English. It is the word *radaph*, which means "to pursue" or "to chase down." David is saying that God’s goodness and relentless, unfailing love aren't just tagging along behind us—they are actively hunting us down, tracking us through every valley and across every mountaintop.
### Conclusion
When we say "let it be" in the spirit of Psalm 23, we are not throwing up our hands in defeat. We are placing our lives into the hands of the Good Shepherd.
We are saying:
* Let my current provisions **be enough**, for You are my shepherd.
* Let my soul **be at rest**, for You lead me by still waters.
* Let my heart **be unafraid**, for You are with me in the valley.
There is a broken world outside these doors, full of noise, confusion, and sorrow. But in the midst of it all, there is a still, small voice whispering to your soul today. You don't have to carry the weight of the universe. You don't have to fix it all right now.
Trust the Shepherd. Take a deep breath. And let it be.
**Amen.**
