Superman Psalm 23:1–6 - Personal blog of Trisha Rapley, Australian Author.

Superman never thought of himself as a hero.

That word belonged to men without histories, to stories polished and clean, to people who had not stumbled publicly or failed loudly.

When he looked at his own life, he saw a past—not a highlight reel, but a ledger of lessons paid for in full.

He believed greatness was reserved for the unbroken.

For the chosen.

For those who had not had to rebuild themselves with scraped hands and worn resolve.

He did not see destiny written over his life.

He saw effort.

Long days.

Early mornings and late nights.

Decisions made when no one was watching.

He carried the quiet assumption that his past disqualified him.

Not because it was dark, but because it was human.

Because mistakes had names and consequences.

Because growth had come through loss, and wisdom through endurance rather than applause.

So he worked.

He worked not to be seen, but to be steady.

Not to impress, but to provide.

Not to be celebrated, but to be dependable.

Hard work became his language of repentance.

Discipline, his form of prayer.

Consistency, the way he proved to himself that change was real.

He didn’t rescue crowds.

He showed up for individuals.

He fixed what he could reach.

He carried weight so others could breathe easier.

He learned that strength wasn’t loud—it was reliable.

In moments of doubt, he wondered if he was meant for anything more. But each time he questioned his worth, life quietly answered back through the people who felt safer because he stayed.

Through the responsibilities he honoured.

Through the man he became when no one was applauding.

He did not chase greatness because greatness felt like a lie told to fragile egos. He chased integrity. And integrity, practised daily, began to change the shape of his life.

What he never realised was that heroes are rarely born from perfection. They are forged in obscurity, tempered by regret, and defined by the decision to keep going without the promise of recognition.

Superman never wore a cape.

He wore accountability.

He wore humility.

He wore the quiet courage of a man who refused to be ruled by his past.

And if greatness ever found him, it would not be because he qualified for it— but because he earned it, one ordinary, faithful day at a time.

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.     

He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.

He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, 

for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Psalm 23:1–6

Lord,

I lift before You, the protector—the one who stands watch when others rest, who carries weight quietly so others may feel safe. You see the sacrifices no one applauds, the vigilance that never fully sleeps, the strength that is given even when the heart is tired.

Cover him, Father, not only with courage but with peace. Where he has learned to guard everyone else, teach him that he, too, is guarded by You. Where he has been strong out of necessity, remind him that he is allowed to rest.

Heal the places shaped by responsibility, by loss, by battles fought in silence.

Give him discernment, not hardness. Strength, not strain. Authority that flows from humility and love, not fear. Let him protect without losing tenderness, lead without losing compassion, and serve without forgetting his own worth.

Restore what has been poured out.

Renew what has grown weary.

Stand between him and every burden that is not his to carry.

And when he doubts his value, whisper truth into his spirit—that he is seen, chosen, and deeply loved by You.

May his presence bring safety, his words bring calm, and his life reflect Your goodness.

Be his refuge as he has been a refuge to others.

I place him in Your hands, Lord, the strongest place of all.

Amen...

Superman Psalm 23:1–6 - Personal blog of Trisha Rapley, Australian Author.

Superman Psalm 23:1–6 - Personal blog of Trisha Rapley, Australian Author.