Have you ever wondered why God doesn’t simply remove our enemies?
Why doesn’t He silence the accusations? Erase the pain? Close the mouths of the people who wounded us?
I’ve asked those questions. Maybe you have, too. Especially after divorce.
Sometimes we don’t just want God to heal us. We want Him to make the people who hurt us understand what they did. We want Him to vindicate us. We want the whispers to stop and the judgment to disappear.
And honestly? Sometimes we’d be perfectly happy if God sent a strongly worded memo from heaven.
But Psalm 23:5 gives us a picture that is much more surprising. “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over.” God doesn’t say, “I’ll remove your enemies and then we’ll have dinner.”
He says, “I’ll prepare a table while they’re still watching.”
Now that’s a picture worth sitting with.
God Sets the Table in the Valley
I’ve read Psalm 23 probably hundreds of times, but studying the Hebrew words behind this verse gave me an entirely different perspective.
The Hebrew word for “table” is shulchan. And it’s so much more than a piece of furniture where you put your dinner plate. In the ancient Near East, a host inviting someone to his table was extending hospitality, honor, protection, and belonging. The guest wasn’t simply being fed. The guest was being welcomed and cared for.
The host was responsible for the guest’s safety.
Think about that for a moment. The Shepherd becomes the Host. And He prepares a table for you. Not in some peaceful little meadow where everything has already worked itself out.
In the presence of your enemies. Right there in the valley. For those of us who have walked through divorce, that matters. Because divorce can make you feel like you’ve been pushed outside the circle.
- Sometimes friends don’t know what to say.
- Sometimes family relationships change.
- Sometimes the church doesn’t know what to do with you.
- And sometimes the very people you thought would pull up a chair for you quietly move your chair to the corner.
But here’s the good news:
God’s invitation isn’t dependent upon somebody else’s approval. Your seat at God’s table was purchased by Jesus, not approved by people.
Who Are These Enemies?
Here’s where the Hebrew gets really interesting. The word David uses for “enemies” is tsarar. It carries the idea of squeezing, binding, constricting, or distressing. That certainly can describe people who oppose us. But sometimes our greatest enemies aren’t people standing across from us.
Sometimes they’re things like shame.
- Fear.
- Loneliness.
- Regret.
- Bitterness.
- Condemnation.
- The voice that says, “You failed.”
- The voice that says, “You’ll never recover.”
- The voice that says, “Your best days are behind you.”
Those things can squeeze the life right out of us.
And yet Psalm 23 says God prepares the table in their presence. He doesn’t wait until everything that distresses you has disappeared. He feeds you while you’re still fighting. He gives you peace while you’re still processing. He reminds you who you are while you’re still learning to believe it again.
And Then He Pours the Oil
David continues: “You anoint my head with oil.” The Hebrew word here carries the idea of being refreshed, satisfied, and abundantly provided for. Oil was used to refresh weary travelers and to soothe wounds.
Shepherds also used oil to protect and care for their sheep.
I love that image because the Shepherd knows where you’re hurting. He doesn’t just look at you and say, “You’ll be fine.” He knows exactly where the wound is.
He knows where rejection landed.
He knows where betrayal cut.
He knows which memories still sting.
And He pours His oil there.
Isaiah 61:3 describes it perfectly: “To bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning…” Friend, your oil of joy may be on the other side of this valley floor. Not because the valley was good. But because God is good.
Your Cup Is Still Running Over
Then David says: “My cup runs over.” The Hebrew word for “overflowing” carries the idea of being saturated or abundantly filled. There’s something almost scandalously generous about that. God isn’t giving you three drops and telling you to be grateful.
He’s filling the cup.
And perhaps you’ve spent so much time looking at what divorce took from you that you haven’t noticed what God is still pouring into you. Maybe your life doesn’t look anything like the life you thought you would have.
Mine didn’t either. But different doesn’t automatically mean destroyed. Sometimes God takes the pieces we thought were the end of our story and begins building something we couldn’t have imagined from where we were standing. That’s one of the lessons I’m continuing to discover as I walk through this Valley of the Shadow of Divorce.
However…there are things that have to die in the valley.
- There are things we have to surrender.
- There are lies and echoes we have to learn to recognize.
- There are wounds we have to stop carrying like they’re part of our identity.
- And eventually, there are places where we have to learn to walk again.
One trail marker leads to another. And I don’t think we’re meant to rush past any of them.
Pull Up a Chair
So here’s something I’d like you to do.
Pull up a chair. Literally.
Sit at your kitchen table and spend ten minutes talking with God as though you were sitting at His table. Then ask Him: “Lord, what would You say to me right now?” Write down what comes to mind.
You might also make a list of the things that have been squeezing, binding, or distressing you. Your “list of enemies”. Then write this at the bottom of the page: “You may watch, but you may not sit at my table.”
And finally, start an overflow journal.
Every evening, write down three ways God provided for you that day. Not three huge miracles. Just three things. Because sometimes recognizing God’s abundance begins by learning to notice it.
There’s More to This Valley
We’re not finished exploring the Valley of the Shadow of Divorce. There are still trail markers ahead Some will take us deeper into the places where God asks us to surrender what we’ve been carrying. Some will challenge the way we’ve understood healing. Some will remind us that the valley has switchbacks—those frustrating moments when you think you’ve already dealt with something, only to find yourself standing in that same emotional territory again.
And yes, there are still a few places in this valley where we’re going to have to deal with some things we’d probably rather leave sitting beside the trail. But that’s okay. We’re not wandering around lost. We’re following the Shepherd.
And apparently, the Shepherd knows how to throw a pretty spectacular dinner party.
So if you’re in the valley today, remember this:
- God did not abandon you there.
- He did not forget you there.
- And He certainly did not leave you hungry there.
- The Shepherd has become your Host.
- The King has prepared a table.
- Your name is on the invitation.
Pull up a chair. After all… Divorce is a sandstorm. And the GPS keeps saying, “Recalculating.” Maybe that’s not the worst thing.
Maybe the Shepherd is simply showing us another way forward.