There is something I have always found deeply comforting about Psalm 23.

I memorized it as a child. I’ve heard it at funerals, in hospital rooms, during hard seasons, and whispered it through tears when I didn’t know what else to pray.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” — Psalm 23:1

It feels peaceful. Safe. Gentle. Like a deep breath after a storm.

But this morning, I noticed something I had somehow missed all these years. Psalm 23 does not stand alone. Right before David writes one of the most peaceful passages in Scripture, he writes one of the most desperate. Psalm 22 is heartbreak. Psalm 23 is peace.

David Was Not Peaceful Before Psalm 23

I so often have read Psalm 23 like David sat down in a quiet field with perfect faith and wrote beautiful poetry while feeling completely calm and spiritually strong. But that may not be what happened. Today I went back, just one chapter earlier, and David is shattered.

Psalm 22 opens with words many of us know because Jesus Himself quoted them on the cross:

“My God, my God, why have You abandoned me?” — Psalm 22:1

That is not polished faith. That is raw pain. David writes about feeling abandoned, exhausted, mocked, overwhelmed, lonely, and surrounded by fear. He cries out to God over and over, wondering where He is.

And honestly? I relate to Psalm 22 than I want to admit. Because there are seasons where my faith does not feel victorious. It feels survival-based.

There are nights when I pray and still cannot sleep. Moments when my heart physically aches from grief. Days when I feel betrayed, isolated, raw, and emotionally exhausted.

I still love God. I still believe in Him. I still trust His truth. I still call upon Jesus.  But my soul feels tired. I think sometimes I feel pressure to skip straight to Psalm 23. I feel wrong if I don’t immediately jump to, God is good. I have peace. I am healed. It’s all okay.

But David didn’t. He let himself fully cry out first.

God Is Not Afraid of Honest Prayer

One of the most beautiful things about Psalm 22 is that David does not hide his emotions from God or us. He tells Him everything.

The confusion. The sorrow. The loneliness. The fear. And that matters because so often the enemy fills our heads with lies that faith means pretending we are okay.

Real faith is bringing our honest hearts before God instead of running away from Him though.

David teaches us that desperation and faith can exist together. You can be grieving and still faithful. You can be exhausted and still praying. You can be broken and still worship. Your emotions can feel so incredibly raw while still singing his praises through the sobs. You can feel distraught while still choosing to seek and trust God.

Worship does not always sound triumphant at first. Sometimes worship sounds like:
“Lord, I do not understand this.”
“God, where are You?”
“Please help me.”
“I cannot carry this by myself anymore.”

And praise God that he still calls that relationship.

The Shift Inside Psalm 22

What struck me most is that Psalm 22 begins in anguish…but it does not stay there. Slowly, the tone changes.

David starts remembering who God is. He starts recalling God’s faithfulness. He begins praising Him even before his circumstances change. By the end of the chapter, David is fully worshipping the Almighty.

Not because life suddenly became easy. Not because all the pain instantly disappeared. But because somewhere in the middle of crying out, David remembered that God was still good. That God still loved him. That the Lord never gave up.

That part hits me deeply. Because I know what it feels like to pray through tears. To worship while hurting. To thank God while still waiting for healing.

There have been moments in my life where I do not feel strong at all. I feel emotionally exhausted, physically drained, mentally overwhelmed, and spiritually worn thin. And yet somehow, in the middle of all of it, the Lord is still here. Not always with immediate answers. Not always with instant relief. But with His presence and with His purpose.

And sometimes His presence is what carries us until peace finally comes.

Psalm 23 Feels Different After Psalm 22

When you read Psalm 23 after Psalm 22, it changes the entire chapter.

“The Lord is my shepherd” means something different when you realize it was written by someone who knew what it felt like to be broken.

“He restores my soul” means more when you realize David wrote it after his soul had been deeply troubled.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil” carries weight when you realize David had actually walked through valleys.

Psalm 23 is not shallow positivity. It is hard-earned trust. It is the peace that comes after desperation. The confidence that comes after crying out. The faith that survives the darkness.

And maybe that is why it comforts me so deeply. Because it does not come from someone untouched by pain. It comes from someone who suffered…and still found God faithful.

Right now, my life feels more like Psalm 22 than Psalm 23.

Some days I feel like I am carrying grief that no one can fully see. I am tired of fighting battles in my mind and my sleep. I feel lonely, overwhelmed, heartbroken, and emotionally worn down.

But Psalm 22 is still Scripture too. My brokenness does not disqualify me from God’s presence. My tears do not make me weak. My questions do not scare Him. My exhaustion does not make Him love me any less.

David’s journey reminds me that sometimes peace is not immediate. More often than not, it is built slowly in the presence of God. Psalm 23 comes after surviving Psalm 22.

And that gives me hope. Because if God could carry David from despair into trust, He can carry me too.

The Shepherd Never Left

What I love most is that even in Psalm 22, when David felt abandoned, God had not actually left him. And the same is true for us. Feelings can be loud. Pain can feel isolating. Grief can distort perspective. But God remains faithful even when our emotions cannot fully see Him.

The Shepherd was still leading David in Psalm 22. David just could not see the green pastures yet. And maybe some of us are there right now. Still in the valley. Still crying out. Still waiting for peace.

But the beautiful thing about the Shepherd is that He does not abandon us in valleys. He walks through them with us. And eventually, by His grace, He leads us beside still waters again.