Pondering the Shadow

I've been pondering that oft-quoted phrase in the 23rd Psalm, "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. . . ."
I used to think the phrase described only certain people at certain stages of life. When faced with a terminal illness, you're walking through the valley of the shadow of death. When you've lost your mother or a good friend, you must walk through that lonely valley. When comforting someone in that valley, you're in the presence of the shadow of death.
But I've decided the phrase really applies to everyone alive on this earth. Because, from the moment we're born, we're in the shadow of death.
Nurses in the delivery room scurry to check vital signs to discover if there's any imminent threat to the infant's new life.
Mothers read books about childhood illnesses and pester the pediatrician about symptoms they can't understand.
Fathers worry when they finally hand the car keys to the new teen driver.
Young adults monitor their diets and plan their exercise regimens--all in pursuit of sure ways to delay an early death.
And older adults laugh about their aches and pains and pills and prescriptions, because they don't want to discuss how the shadow is getting darker and larger as the reality it represents grows closer.
This sounds a little morbid, but I don't mean it that way. But I have been thinking about death as I've realized three golden saints have walked through the valley and past the doorway of death in just the last few days.
Last week we attended the visitation for Alice Weiner. Soon after we learned that Sherwood Smith had died. Tomorrow I'll attend Marjorie Miller's funeral. All three led exemplary lives. All three challenge me to be better, to develop a sharper focus, to imitate Christ much better than I have so far.
The shadow is not a bad place. It provides shade and rest, protection from the heat of the day. And from the shadow we have a clear vision of the light.
These are unfinished thoughts, but I'll treat my diary as a sketchbook for the final column I want to write for Christian Standard--probably tomorrow after returning from Marge's memorial service, in time to post at ChristianStandard.com on Thursday.

I attended a simple training session for worship service hosts at church at 6:30 and then returned home to enjoy a bowl of Evelyn's wonderful white chicken chili before doing my errands to get ready for tomorrow. It's been a productive (although not noteworthy) day, and I'm looking forward to fond memories, challenging thoughts, and good fellowship at the funeral and dinner afterwards tomorrow.