The Fisherman’s Psalm 23
Clovelly Quay, North Devon
In an ancient fisherman’s cottage, now a museum, in the remote village of Clovelly, North Devon, amidst the fishing nets and tackle, my eyes lit upon a framed poem, Fisherman’s Psalm 23. A little twee, but it went straight to my heart, as I was painfully aware of a friend back at home experiencing her last days or hours on this earth.
The Lord is my Pilot, I shall not drift.
He lights me across the darkest waters.
In the deepest channels he steers me
He keeps my log.
He guards me by the star of his holiness
For his names sake.
Yea, though I sail amidst the thunder and tempests of life
I will feel no danger for you are with me.
Your love and care they shelter me.
You prepare a harbour ahead in the heaven of eternity;
You anoint the waves with oil;
My boat rides calmly.
Surely your sunlight and starlight
Favour me on all voyages I take
And I shall dwell in the port of my God forever.
My eyes filled with tears. I read it again slowly, saying it as a prayer for my dying friend. It was particularly apt as Sue was keen on all forms of watersports. The following day, Sue arrived at the harbour of heaven.
I first met Sue in my first year of secondary school; she was running the little Christian Union group, which was a great help to me, a newcomer to faith from a non-Christian background. The qualities I saw in Sue in her early teens were ones that deepened as her life went on. She was quiet, gentle, wise, strong, kind and faithful. After she left school, we lost touch but happily I joined her church in my late 20s. In her unassuming way, she was a pillar of our church community, running the preschool for many years. I wasn’t close friends with her until 2024 when we were both asked to join a small committee for appointing a new minister. Sue and I met up to chat and pray about whether to join the group. She had been diagnosed with terminal liver cancer and was awaiting treatment. After our discussion and prayer time, she said, with characteristic down to earth-ness, that she didn’t know if she’d live to see a new pastor join the church, but she wanted to do what she could while she could.
Over the next 18 months Sue underwent gruelling treatment but hardly ever missed a meeting and worked hard behind the scenes. But what touched me most was the way she supported me through a difficult personal issue throughout that time, always asking me how it was going and praying faithfully in the background. Thankfully she did live to see our new pastor installed in January.
The Fisherman’s Psalm 23 is a comfort to me, yet I believe the final line is misleading. A port is a ship’s destination or resting place. But my deep conviction about the life to come is that it will be growth, not stasis; life on the high seas, not sheltering in port. Everything good that characterises life here will endure – relationships, learning, discovery, creativity, adventure, even work! All these come from God, but in heaven they will be untramelled by sin and suffering, which don’t come from God. Sue has gone ahead into Life and at some point, I will follow. In the meantime, the Lord is my Pilot, and by his grace, I will not drift.
