I’ve always loved Psalm 23. It’s one of those passages we memorize early, and see everywhere—from funerals to wall art. But as I’ve revisited it as a preacher, a teacher, and a follower of Jesus trying to stay rooted, it’s come alive in deeper ways.

I was invited to speak on verse 5:

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil.”

That imagery hit differently this time. Not because it’s poetic, but because of what it reveals about God—and how it confronts the way many of us see ourselves.

That Familiar Voice: “You Don’t Belong Here”

In leadership, in ministry, even in parenting—there’s this nagging voice that shows up at the worst times:

“You’re not qualified.”
“You’re not as competent as they think.”
“Sooner or later, they’ll see through you.”

We often call that Impostor Syndrome—that inner voice that says you’re a fraud, that your success is unearned, and that you don’t deserve the seat you’re in.

Turns out, even brilliant minds like Albert Einstein admitted feeling this way. And honestly…me too.

But when I look at Psalm 23, I don’t see God inviting someone who’s flawless. I see a holy God setting a table in front of enemies. I see God anointing someone who’s faced real failure. And most importantly, I see a Shepherd whose character doesn’t change—even when I feel unworthy.

This Psalm Is About God, Not Me

Psalm 23 is not a celebration of David’s accomplishments. It’s a declaration of the Lord’s character.

Before the Psalm tells us what the Shepherd does for David, it tells us who the Shepherd is. This isn’t about David’s identity—it’s about God’s nature. God prepares. God leads. God protects. God restores.

That matters, because it tells us something universal: the foundation of our relationship with God is not our worthiness, but His faithfulness.

The Table Says More About the Host Than the Guest

When David says,

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies,”

he’s not flexing. He’s acknowledging the hospitality and power of a God who provides, protects, and honors—even in hostile territory.

Jim Hamilton puts it beautifully:

“David speaks of God setting a table before him in the presence of his enemies. Perhaps the image is one of a feast in the field after a battle in which the enemies are defeated. What is certain is that the description has God endorsing David and providing for him, while his enemies are put to shame. This is a picture of vindication.” (Psalms, Volume I, 297)

In other words, this isn’t about David’s worth—it’s about God’s verdict.

Vindication isn’t something we claim for ourselves—it’s something God gives in full view of everything and everyone that tried to discredit us. And the good news? That same God still vindicates the broken, the humbled, the undeserving—those who belong to Him through Christ.

So What About Me?

When I read this verse now, I don’t insert myself into David’s experience. I look at David’s Shepherd—and remember that He’s mine too.

The same God who led David is still leading His people. The God who defended David doesn’t change. And the One who prepares a table—even in the presence of enemies—is still doing that kind of work today, for those who belong to Him through Christ.

So yes, there are days I feel inadequate. There are days I feel like I don’t deserve the seat I’ve been given. But the truth is—I don’t. None of us do.

That’s what makes grace so beautiful.

Here’s What I’m Learning

  • My confidence doesn’t come from being qualified—it comes from being called.

  • I’m not the center of the story—but I’ve been invited into it.

  • The table doesn’t exist because of my performance—it exists because of God’s promise.

  • And the One who prepares the table is also the One who refreshes, sanctifies, and heals.

Psalm 23 reminds me that I’m not alone in the valley. But more than that, it reminds me that I’m not the hero of the story. The Shepherd is.

Final Thought

If you’re reading this and feeling like you don’t belong at God’s table—good. You’re in the right place.

Because none of us deserve to be there. But the Shepherd still prepares the table. And that says more about Him than it ever could about us.