It had just rained; Everything smelled like new earth—that sweet, muddy, clove-adjacent smell that only chases a soft rain after a notable summer drought. As a gentle mist diffused the last evening light and laid it down along the forest’s underbrush, a line of three white-tailed deer flit through the trees, dashing over a steep bank and out of sight in less than a breath. It was almost as if the creatures had made no sound at all—so sure and trusting were their movements that even the fallen tree in their path was of no consequence to them. A Psalm whispered up in my soul: “He made my feet like the feet of a deer and set me secure on the heights” (Psalm 18:33).1 

C.H. Spurgeon aptly titles Psalm 18 “The Grateful Retrospect.”2 King David wrote this song of praise at the height of his leadership over Israel; Having surveyed his many victories, he concludes that the hand of God holds all of it, that his victory is God’s provision, that his rise is the Lord’s lifted hand. And as the glory of God’s grace casts light through this retrospect, a deer flits across David’s praise in less than a breath, offering perhaps one of the most profound images of God’s provision: “He made my feet like the feet of a deer and set me secure on the heights” (Psalm 18:33).3    

During the Old Testament era, deer were a thriving feature of Israel’s landscape, often roaming in large herds similar to today’s Iranian fallow deer. Despite their prolific nature, they were never domesticated.4 As a shepherd before he was a king, David likely observed these unfettered deer darting across the rocky heights of his pasture—so sure and trusting in their movements as if even the steepest escarpment was of no consequence to them. They were wildly, perfectly, unabashedly free, solely dependent upon their Creator’s loving care for their survival in a drought-prone, unforgiving place.  

There is much to learn in the paradox of the deer: that to depend radically, fully on the Creator is to experience the radical fullness of freedom—a type of freedom marked by a surefooted peace found in the Creator of the universe who governs our every step, setting us securely upon the heights. And perhaps the most beautiful paradox of all is this: that freedom in Christ is found in surrender to Christ, that only at the foot of the cross can we find ourselves set securely upon the heights. It is precisely at the moment when we realize we are completely helpless in our sin that we find deliverance from it, that we find our life bought with Christ’s death and secure with His resurrection.  

“Let me learn by paradox 

that the way down is the way up, 

that to be low is to be high, 

that the broken heart is the healed heart, 

that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, 

that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, 

that to have nothing is to possess all, 

that to bear the cross is to wear the crown…” 5 

1 ESV, Unless otherwise noted, all biblical passages referenced are in the English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2001).

2 C. H. Spurgeon, “Psalm 18,” in Treasury of David, vol. 1 (Pasadena, TX: Pilgrim Publications, 1983), 386. 

3 Katharine Dell J., “The Use of Animal Imagery in the Psalms and Wisdom Literature of Ancient Israel,” Scottish Journal of Theology 53, no. 3 (2000): 287–88.

4 Kevin Hall, “Deer as Imagery in the Old Testament,” BI, Winter (2008-09): 16–18. 

5 Arthur Bennett, ed., The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions (East Peoria, IL: Versa Press Inc., 1975), xix.