FATC Days of Christmas (Day 17)…The Shepherd’s Stream

FATC Days of Christmas (Day 17)… The Shepherd’s Stream 

Remember…Our FATC motto —It’s not just about the fly fishing. Well, it’s the Christmas season and I have a gift for my FATC brothers. Who knows…for some it may be just the gift they need, but didn’t realize it.

I’ve recently enjoyed reading Daniel Bryant’s book, GOD MUST BE A FLY FISHER, and I think many of you will enjoy it also. I’m reprinting a short chapter each day from now through New Year’s Day. This is not just a book about fly fishing. It’s a book about slowing down. It’s a book about seeing that every moment outdoors might be an invitation to come closer to the One who created it all.

(From God Must Be A Fly Fisher by author Daniel Bryant)

The Shepherd’s Stream

Before he was a king, David was a shepherd. Long before he wore a crown, he carried a sling, watched over sheep, and played music to the Lord beneath open skies. His throne was a hillside. His palace —green pastures. His congregation? A flock of sheep and the occasional curious bird.

It’s in that wilderness school that Psalm 23 was born —not in a study, but in the solitude of still waters and silent stars.

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.” (Psalm 23:1)

That’s how it begins. And it doesn’t start with what David has— it starts with who God is.

Fly fishing begins the same way. The gear matters, sure. The flies, the cast, the current—all important. But the true fly fisher knows that success on the river starts not with what you carry, but how you approach the water. With humility. With awareness. With trust in something bigger than yourself.

David continues: “He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.” (Psalm 23:2)

He doesn’t say, I found a good spot. He says, He leads me. There’s a trust here. A submission. A surrender to divine guidance.

On the river, we learn quickly that the fish don’t rise where we want them to. We’re led by the current, the hatch, the subtle rhythm of life under the surface. We don’t demand. We follow.

Still waters don’t just represent peace —they represent the place of restoration.

“He restores my soul.” (Psalm 23:3)

Think about that: not just body, not just mood. Soul. The deepest part of us. The part that gets worn down by grief, fear, disappointment, distraction. Out on the river, many of us have felt that quiet healing take place—not from the fish we catch, but from the stillness itself. The whisper of grace between the trees. The sermon in the flow. The hand of the Shepherd reaching beneath the surface to renew us.

David goes on: “He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.” (Psalm 23:3)

Not for our fame. Not for our platform. But for His name. Because when the Shepherd leads, we walk with purpose —even if we don’t yet know where the path leads.

Then comes the verse we know well:

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” (Psalm 23:4)

The valley. The shadows. The places where the cast doesn’t land right, where the current pulls harder than expected, where the river seems too deep and the fish too wise. Life brings its valleys. But David says he fears nothing —not because the valley isn’t real, but because the Shepherd is there.

“Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.” (Psalm 23:4)

A rod for protection. A staff for correction. One to drive off the wolves, the other to pull us from the edge when we wander. God, our guide, doesn’t just direct—He protects. And He disciplines not to shame us, but to bring us back to the still waters.

Then David shifts again: “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”(Psalm 23:5)

Not after the enemies are gone —but right in front of them. God’s goodness is not postponed until the battle ends. He feeds us, strengthens us, anoints us in the middle of it all.

“You anoint my head with oil. My cup overflows.” (Psalm 23:5)

And finally: “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” (Psalm 23:6)

That’s the ultimate drift —the eternal flow of grace. Goodness and mercy in your wake. Home always just ahead.

David knew all this not from a palace window —but from still waters. From battles with lions, bears, and giants. From failures, songs, and the long walk home after sin. His sling may have brought down Goliath, but it was Psalm 23 that anchored his soul.

So, when you’re on the river, rod in hand, heart a little tired, and wondering where the next cast will land —remember this:

The Lord is your Shepherd.

He’s still leading.

Still restoring.

Still preparing tables.

Still walking with you, rod and staff in hand.

So, lie down in the green pastures. Let the still waters do their work.

Because the same Shepherd who helped David face giants still restores the souls of those who cast by faith.