INTRODUCTION
A college macroeconomics professor once explained the difference between durable and nondurable goods.
Durable goods are things expected to last three years or more.
Nondurables get used up pretty quickly.
He asked, “Can anyone give me an example of a durable good?”
A student called out, “Fruitcake!”
Honestly, he’s not wrong. Those things are indestructible.
We laugh, but it’s true:
this season is full of gifts, full of touches of love, full of reminders that we matter to one another.
We love giving.
We love receiving.
We love the feeling of connection.
Thanksgiving might still be cooling in the fridge, and our hearts might not feel fully shifted into Christmas yet, but Christmas isn’t waiting. It’s here. Lights are going up. Calendars are filling. And the word Advent reminds us what’s really happening: Jesus comes.
God draws near.
He touches the world.
–––––––––––––––
TRANSITION
–––––––––––––––
If you’ve ever seen Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam” painted across the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, you know the part everyone remembers. God reaching from one side. Adam reaching from the other. Fingers stretched, almost touching. All the power of life and love in that tiny space between them.
That moment captures something we all crave.
Have you ever felt desperate for God’s touch?
You were worn down.
You were running on fumes.
You were surrounded by chaos or disappointment or a sense that life was piling up faster than you could handle.
And deep inside, you knew: “I just need God to touch me. Right here. Right now.”
The beautiful truth is that God’s touch is already everywhere.
We see it in creation.
We taste it in daily grace.
We feel it in those surprising moments when peace sneaks up on us.
He is Immanuel —
God. With. Us.
Psalm 23 gives us a close look at how He touches our lives.
Let’s walk through it together and notice three divine touches that reveal the shepherd-heart of God.
–––––––––––––––
I. GOD SHEPHERDS US
Psalm 23:1–3
–––––––––––––––
David begins with a statement of confidence: “The Lord is my Shepherd.”
Not “a shepherd”…
Not “the Shepherd”…
“My Shepherd.”
It’s personal.
And yet the comparison is humbling, because sheep are famous for one thing:
needing help.
Philip Keller, who actually worked as a shepherd, once wrote that sheep require more attention than any other livestock. Left alone, they’d eat a pasture down to dirt and ruin it. They get stuck in places no animal should logically get stuck. They panic easily. They follow whatever is in front of them, even if it’s the backside of another sheep walking straight off a cliff.
This is not God complimenting our intelligence.
It’s God reminding us of His faithfulness.
When we say “The Lord is my Shepherd,” we’re saying: “I don’t have to know everything.
I don’t have to fix everything.
I don’t have to carry everything.
I have Someone leading me.”
He meets real needs — physical, emotional, spiritual, relational.
He gives rest when we’re stretched thin.
He restores what stress tries to steal.
He guides us on the right paths — not just the convenient ones, the courageous ones.
Someone once said: “If you don’t like where you’re headed, you might need a different Shepherd.”
Albert Einstein once found himself crawling on a train floor searching for his misplaced ticket. The conductor said,
“Dr. Einstein, we know who you are. Don’t worry about the ticket.”
Einstein replied, “I know who I am, too. What I don’t know is where I’m going!”
Without a Shepherd, we all end up on the floor, searching for direction without a clue where we’re headed.
Jesus steps in with stunning clarity: “I am the Good Shepherd.
I lay down my life for the sheep.”
(John 10:11)
His touch guides us.
We are not alone.
We are not directionless.
We are led.
–––––––––––––––
II. GOD SETTLES US
Psalm 23:4
–––––––––––––––
“He leads me beside quiet waters.”
“He restores my soul.”
“I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”
God doesn’t just guide us.
He calms us.
A missionary in the Middle East once wrote about a shepherd whose flock grazed near the sound of gunfire. Every time shots rang out, the sheep scattered in fear. The shepherd would walk calmly to each one, touch its side gently with his staff, whispering something soothing.
One by one, they settled.
Not because the danger was gone.
Because the shepherd was there.
Life does that to us.
Gunshots of bad news.
Explosions of stress.
Ambushes of grief or betrayal or unexpected change.
We scatter.
We tremble.
We brace for the worst.
Then our Shepherd lays a hand on us: “Breathe.
I’m here.
You’re safe with Me.”
There’s a moment in Psalm 23 where everything shifts: “You are with me.”
Not a theory.
Not a promise pinned to the fridge.
A presence that steadies the heart.
A first grader once told his class he wanted to be a lion tamer someday. “I’ll walk into the cage, and those lions will roar!” he said boldly. He paused and added, “Of course… I’ll have my mommy with me.”
Courage is born from who’s beside us.
The angels announced at Jesus’ birth: “Peace on earth.”
(Luke 2:14)
That wasn’t wishful thinking.
It was a declaration.
Peace has come near.
Fear doesn’t get the last word.
Immanuel. God with us.
–––––––––––––––
III. GOD SATISFIES US
Psalm 23:5–6
–––––––––––––––
David paints a picture of abundance: “You prepare a table before me…
You anoint my head with oil…
My cup overflows…”
Think about that for a second.
Overflowing isn’t “just enough.”
Overflowing is “more than I dreamed.”
A God who doesn’t pinch pennies with His kindness.
We got a tiny glimpse of that after Thanksgiving dinner.
Content. Full. Can’t-eat-another-bite full.
That moment when you lean back and life feels…good.
David says God wants that fullness to become a way of life with Him: “Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.”
Not sometimes.
Not when conditions are ideal.
All the days.
Even the hard ones.
Even the “I was barely hanging on” days.
Even the days mistakes were made.
His goodness follows.
His love chases.
His presence remains.
We get one physical death. That’s it.
And then forever life in God’s house.
Jesus Himself promises: “I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”
(Matthew 28:20)
We never have to fear being abandoned.
Not on the worst day of our year.
Not on the last day of our life.
He touches us with permanent love.
–––––––––––––––
APPLICATION
–––––––––––––––
We recently survived another Black Friday.
Well…survived might be the correct word.
All the commercials talk about joy and peace and giving…
but the news is full of people fighting over TVs
and shoving shopping carts through crosswalks
like civility is optional if the discounts are good enough.
One moment we’re “one nation under God.”
The next moment it’s “every shopper for themselves.”
This is the tension of Christmas: God touches the world with light.
We sometimes respond with chaos.
John 1:14 says: “The Word became flesh
and made His dwelling among us.”
Jesus didn’t just send a card.
He showed up.
He touched the world with skin and bone and compassion.
And because of that touch…
The Light is supposed to shine brighter in us this time of year.
Yet sometimes — honestly — it dims.
We know the carols by memory
but they forget to reach our hearts.
We show up to worship
but watch the clock.
We go through motions
but miss the wonder.
If we let the to-do lists replace the awe,
we become exactly what people say: “slightly touched”
but not in a good way.
The elevator stops one floor short.
The deck is missing a card.
The message is there,
but we’re too tired to feel it.
Maybe the season isn’t lacking meaning.
Maybe we’re just too busy to receive the touch.
Karen Mains tells a story about waiting weary in an airport shuttle after a stressful ministry weekend, feeling emotionally pressed down by criticism. A stylish woman in a mink coat sat next to her silently. When they reached the terminal, the woman reached across, gently touched Karen’s arm, and said:
“My dear sister, you are in such pain.
I’m going to pray for you all the way home.”
It was a simple touch.
A quiet miracle.
A reminder that God sees us
and sometimes uses strangers to deliver love.
She never saw the woman again.
But that touch stayed with her for months.
Healing doesn’t always come with trumpets.
Sometimes it comes with a whisper and a hand on the arm.
This Christmas…
Maybe God will nudge you to touch someone
who needs hope.
A neighbor.
A coworker.
A family member sitting right beside you
who is silently struggling.
Not a grand gesture.
Just a presence.
A prayer.
A kindness.
A moment of paying attention.
We are blessed.
So we bless.
We are touched by God.
So we touch others on His behalf.
–––––––––––––––
BENEDICTION / SENDING
–––––––––––––––
“To Him who is able to do immeasurably more
than all we ask or imagine,
according to His power that is at work within us,
to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus
throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.”
