Sermonstudio

The valley of the shadow is real; we all pass through it. Some
of us live there. Our souls are heavy laden. "He restoreth my
soul;" there is hope.
Recently, I heard an Army chaplain who had been stationed
overseas speaking on this text. He had read the 23rd Psalm in
family devotions. His little girl had brightly come up with the
question, "But, Daddy, what do you mean, 'He restoreth my soul'?"
Her father answered by reviewing the cases that had come to him
for counseling the week before. Here was a mother with two little
children whose husband was being shipped out to Viet Nam. What
could it mean to her, "He restoreth my soul?" A couple whose home
was breaking up in a kind of a hell of hate and bitterness had
come to the chaplain. What would it mean to them, "He restoreth
my soul?" A young man had come to him completely broken in moral
life, his whole lifestyle exploding about him, everything going
to pieces. What could this word of hope have meant to him in his
moral struggle?
The chaplain, then, answered his little girl: "Honey, you
remember when you broke your doll and you were crying like your
heart would break, and Mama came and picked you up and held you
and hugged you tight and said she would fix the doll, and, then
somehow, everything was all right. That's what it means, 'He
restoreth my soul.' "
In the terrible death and destruction of an earthquake, what
would it mean if people had no faith in God to help them through
and beyond the tragedy? What does it mean to adults

like us in life situations that are difficult and frightening and
confusing? What does it mean to young people who are up against
it, trying to find what makes sense in this sort of world? It
means, that when we let him, God picks us up, hugs us a second,
shakes us a bit, if necessary, puts us on our feet, and, if need
be, turns us around, straightens us out, opens a door before us
and starts us off again, putting new life into us. That is what
it means, "He restoreth my soul."
Life is full of tragedy and hurt. That's why we need the
restoring powers. One writer reminds us:

"One businessman I know gets up in the morning with an anxiety,
and jumps anxiously from one anxiety to the next until he goes to
bed, and then keeps himself awake with more anxieties."

Hasn't anybody told him about a God who heals and restores?
Someone else lines up generations of pessimism and hopelessness:

"Great grandfather in the Flemish bogs
Thought the world was going to the dogs.
Grandfather in a house of logs
Was sure the world was going to the dogs.
Father on an assembly line of cogs
Declared the world was going to the dogs.
And we in the mists of atom fogs
Say, also, the world is going to the dogs."

If we keep saying it, it will go to the dogs. Let's change the
word to hope: "He restoreth my soul."
One mother tells me that she wakes up at 6 a.m. and thinks of
12 things she needs to worry about. She spends so much time
worrying that she hasn't the time nor the energy left to handle
life's normal problems. Handling life's problems creatively is
what life is all about. He has restored my soul, again and again.
The soul, the spirit is the most important part of life. I live on a
mountain in Asheville, North Carolina. A few years ago, the Secretary of the
Navy and his family took off as

passengers in a plane from our airport. As it gained altitude it
collided with a small plane and 78 lives were lost in the
accident. Some people realize the meaning of life rather quickly
and move on into its effective fulfillment. Some people are slow
starters and mature very slowly in spiritual experience. On that
plane there were many who hadn't really started to live; and,
yet, in a flash it was all over, ended. Had they been blinded by
the footlights of life, and so worried about their costumes and
make-up that they had failed to realize the true realities of
living?
Some of these people on the plane had gone to church the
previous Sunday. I wonder if they realized the power of God to
bridge the gap from this life into the next life? I wonder if
they understood the ongoing of being, in the fulfillment of
personality in a greater wavelength of existence. I wonder if
they were aware of heaven, and were ready for it. I wonder if
they had grown in soul maturity in that last worship service. I
wonder if the preacher that Sunday realized the eternal personal
importance of his message. They did not know what would happen;
we do not know what will happen. But we do know that in an
encounter with a Christ-like God, if we let him into our lives,
he can handle any situation in this life or in the next life, "He
restoreth my soul."
Some years ago I read a best seller, Tell No Man, by Adela
Rogers St. John. This novel had keen insight into the moral
breakdown of our contemporary way of life. The story was woven
around a little group of wealthy people in Chicago. These
families were going to pieces. Their lives were breaking down
because of constant drinking and because of marital infidelity.
They were living by no spiritual structure, no commandments, no
ethical disciplines. They were following their own unrestricted
desires. Everything they touched, and all that they loved, was
beginning to be damned and destroyed by those same undisciplined
desires.
In the midst of their undirected living, one of their group,
Colin Rowe, jumped from the top of one of the tall buildings of
downtown Chicago. The shock of this suicide began to

make the group ask questions and dig more deeply into the real
meaning of life. They started their quest from their own shallow
base: "What was the matter with him? He had everything, didn't
he? A wife like Lib; they were going to make him a vice president
in June. They had just brought back a Mercedes-Benz from
Frankfort. He was shooting in the low 70s. What did he want, for
Chrissake?"
In their blindness, this was their question. But they had
overlooked some very simple facts: The terror of an agonizing
guilt, the burning of a ruptured conscience, the normal hunger of
a living soul. In their mad wealth they had forgotten all this.
Do we have to play the record over and over again to get the
message? Life spells it out for us in blazing letters. When we
stop to look and listen we see the inevitable consequences.
Even as far back as the Old Testament, life spelled it out in
vivid terms. David committed adultery. It hasn't changed. Ancient
times and modern times are the same. The data processing of
conscience very quickly feels the burning of moral breakdown. And
our sins set up a chain reaction on their own. Uriah, a good
soldier, was murdered on the front line. Something in the heart
of David was destroyed. The spiritual life of a nation was
shaken. A baby was born and lost its life. The sons of David
turned out badly, Absalom being caught by his hair in a tree, and
killed. Tragedy stalked the house of David. The data processing
is inexorable. But the house of David could still be "established
in righteousness." So could the house of Colin Rowe, But Colin
jumped!
God was heartbroken at David's breakdown, so he moved in on
David. He spoke to David through his prophet: "David, see what
you have done; look at those you have destroyed." The eyes of
David were opened; he saw; he repented; he asked forgiveness; he
received forgiveness. His soul was restored.
God would do the same for any of us. But we are blind. The
shock of life should open our eyes. But Colin Rowe jumped. He
didn't know enough of the love of Christ to realize that he could
be forgiven. He didn't have enough faith

to realize that Christ could sustain him in a brand new pattern
of life. He jumped, and his friends stumbled on. The real
controls are not outside, they are inside us. The outside
controls cannot keep us or our youth in line, unless we yield to
the God-given controls deep inside us (the divine order deep
within). By an inner commitment we come into life with real life.
"He restoreth my soul by leading me in paths of righteousness --
for his name's sake." His name is love! An inner righteousness is
always in touch with ultimate reality. And that is the secret of
effective living.
Listen to Isaiah:

"Even youths grow faint and weary,
... but they who wait for the Lord
shall renew their strength.
They shall mount up with wings like eagles.
They shall run and not be weary.
They shall walk and not be faint."
(Isaiah 40:30-31)

This can happen to us. I believe in miracles. In a period of
tension and strain, I was awakened at 3 a.m. There was a dim
light in the room. Suddenly, I felt totally free, completely
unburdened, sure, afraid of nothing. I knew a peace that
surpassed all understanding. I was renewed, restored. I believe
that Christ was in my room that night. "He restoreth my soul."
"For me to live, is Christ."
It seems that Colin Rowe's group had lost the secret. Faith
wasn't real to them. They believed in miracles yesterday -- yes,
Christ worked miracles. They believed in miracles tomorrow -- yes,
some great things are going to happen some day. But they just
couldn't accept miracles today. But if there are no miracles
today, there are no miracles -- ever! So Colin Rowe jumped.
His crowd just didn't believe that one of their own group like
Colin Rowe could be drawn into a new evaluation of life, could
have a new spirit breathed into him, could again move into an
experience of effective living. There was no visible hope

-- so he jumped. But this is the kind of gospel that Christ brings
into our world. He does restore souls, no matter what the
situation. God is just as versatile as that; he moves into the
life situation and brings new hope, new fulfillment.
Christianity is a movement of miracles wrought through
spiritual power and love. I have seen miracles recently. In fact,
they are on the increase. I have seen a hopeless alcoholic become
a creative Christian lay man. I have seen a woman healed of a
hopeless heart condition. The cardiac surgeon confirmed this.
That is why we need a strong, loving Christian fellowship to
provide the atmosphere for healing. He restoreth our souls in the
midst of life's tensions and many times the soul restores the
body.
A high school boy once came to me for counseling. He was in
deep trouble. His father had died a year before as an alcoholic.
He had no one to turn to. He said he couldn't possibly talk to
his mother. Here is the way he put it: "There is a big wall
between me and my mother. I can't get over it; I can't get under
it; I can't get around it. I've tried and tried, but there is no
door in it; there is not a loose brick. If I could only push a
brick back and talk to her just a little bit; but I can't get
through to her. I've got to talk to somebody -- will you listen?"
"Sure I'll listen," was my answer.
He poured his heart out. In this conversation God broke in and
helped a high school boy again feel love and forgiveness. Purpose
and hope were restored and he could begin to find himself as a
real person in the midst of his own world. For youth, this is
what it means: "He restoreth my soul."
Many young persons are crying out: "Please mother, please God,
please teacher, please world, please government -- please
understand us; how us the way; give us something to live for and
to live by. We have some living to do. We need to be born into
real life. There is something unique and infinite in us."
As the adult world, let's get our act together. Let's live it
before them. Let's lead them into the real and satisfying
dimensions of life. Let's help them find their greatest place of
usefulness in today's world. Let's share with them visions and

character; integrity and a zest for living. They want it; down
deep they want it -- they are hungry and scared. Pastors and
parents and teachers and business leaders can combine to form the
restoring team, active in our contemporary world.
We don't get rid of darkness by shoving it out. We get rid of
darkness by letting the light in. But at times we do not want too
much light. It shocks us. It unmasks us. It makes us see
ourselves as we really are. Then we have to ask ourselves, "How
could I have been so stupid?" Perhaps it takes some of this
before we can clear the decks and let God restore us into full
being. Perhaps some of Colin Rowe's friends found new life
because of the shock of his jumping to his death.
Too many of us are spiritual drop-outs: "I've been down so
long; down don't worry me no more." We've got money; why do we
need God? Colin Rowe had money, but he took his life. We have
good minds; we are smart, intelligent; we want to work out our
own problems -- why do we need God? Yes, we can handle it up to a
point; but there is a dimension beyond which I cannot go alone.
"The lines on our faces, the ulcers in our stomachs, our trips to
the psychiatrist, our high blood pressure all reveal that we are
living a second-hand relationship with reality. We act as if we
were not aware of a restoring force in the universe. We are not
experiencing the face of an all-powerful caring God who is like
Jesus. Colin Rowe jumped.
There are some things I just can't handle alone. They are too
big for me. Why can't I come down off my high horse and let God
help me. "I am the vine, you are the branches," Jesus said.
"Without me, you can do nothing." Not really. Beyond the
rumblings of evil and death, I hear another sound: the whispers
of love and peace. Something is happening in the world that man
did not initiate. There is the beginning of an awakening. A Great
new day is in the making. God calls you and me to be a part of
it. He restoreth my soul for a purpose.
Into the wilderness of this world, Christ comes. Whether it be
Chicago or my city, he seeks to save us and to walk with us and
to guide us and to strengthen us. He enters our own

particular hells in order to deliver us. We know what he stands
for. We feel his love and his strength and our belief in
ourselves is revived. His forgiveness reaches even my sin and
your sin. His love includes us all. "He that cometh to me, I will
in no way cast out." His promises are true. He has spoken in my
life; he has spoken in yours. Remember the thief on the cross.
That thought could have saved Colin Rowe. Too often he has spoken
to us and we have walked away. He calls out, "Wait. Don't go
away. Don't hang up. I want to talk to you. I want to help you."
How many Colin Rowe's have we told, "Christ loves you. Christ
wants to help you." Christ enables us to survive even death
itself. If Colin Rowe had gotten the message, he could have been
a blessing to Chicago. But, "He (Christ) came unto his own, and
his own received him not." We can change all that.
Look at the old priest in the story, The Kappillan of Molta.
The people were forced to live in caves during the terrible
bombing that lasted more than a year. There were three or four
raids a day. In the midst of all this suffering and terror moved
the loving figure of Father Salvatore. The altar of the church
was set up in one of the caves. The old priest ministered in love
and faith to the living and the dying. He represented the
constant presence of Christ. He baptized the babies, he married
the young couples, he ministered to the sick, he gave them hope.
When it was all over they realized that they were better men,
better women, better children because of the suffering and
because of a spiritual presence. Their souls had been restored
and sustained.
He leads us through the wilderness of life, and gives it
meaning. He enables us to face the winds of life, no matter how
hard they blow; and when the winds cease their blowing, and our
work is done; when our mission is accomplished, and our life
fulfilled, then by his grace we shall be ready, whatever the time
or the situation, we shall be ready.
That is what it means: "He restoreth my soul."
There is always something more "Beyond the valley of the
shadow."