Introduction
Louie Giglio begins with a moment of raw honesty. After enduring a season of deep personal and pastoral struggle—marked by betrayal, exhaustion, and mental turmoil—he sent a long, vindicated message to a friend. The response was short, but it pierced: “Don’t give the Enemy a seat at your table.”
That phrase became a turning point. Giglio realized he had unknowingly let the Devil influence his thoughts—fostering fear, bitterness, and despair. It launched him into a deeper meditation on Psalm 23, especially the line: “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”
He saw that this table symbolized intimate fellowship with God, offered not in the absence of hardship, but right in the middle of it. Enemies may surround—but they’re not invited to sit.
This book flows from that insight, urging readers to reclaim their thought life, resist the Enemy’s lies, and focus on the Shepherd who sets the table.
“I want to help you see that you have power, through Jesus Christ, to take authority over who sits at your table—over who influences your thinking” (11).
“The Lord is my shepherd” (Psalm 23:1)
Giglio draws from John 10 and Hebrews 13:8 to show that Jesus is the living fulfillment of the Shepherd in Psalm 23—the same Christ who knows His sheep by name and walks with us personally through life.
“The Good Shepherd, who also happens to be God, is offering to lead you through every moment of your life!” (22)
But here’s the key question: Who is actually shepherding you?
Whether we know it or not, everyone is being led by something. “All of us are shepherded,” Giglio writes. If it’s not Jesus, it might be culture, anxiety, self-interest, or social media. And if it’s you? Well, “if you are your own shepherd, it is likely you are in want” (22).
Quoting 2 Peter 2:19, he reminds us: “People are slaves to whatever has mastered them.”
The call is to let Jesus—and only Jesus—be our Shepherd, the one who leads us to rest and restores our souls.
“Even though I walk through the valley… I will fear no evil” (Psalm 23:4)
This verse holds the dynamic of faith: “Even though… I will.”
Even though we walk through valleys—of grief, depression, sickness, or disappointment—we will not fear, because God is with us. It’s not escapism—it’s trust in the presence of the Good Shepherd.
“The good news is not simply that God will help you. The message is that God is with you—in the storm, in the chemo ward, in the grave” (28).
And more than that: He is within us. The Holy Spirit makes Jesus present inside the believer, which means we never walk alone—not for a single step.
This is the foundation for resilient faith. Like Habakkuk, who declared:
“Even though the crops fail… I will rejoice in the Lord” (Hab 3:17–18), we are called to live by that same stubborn, radiant hope.
Giglio writes, “Your Shepherd didn’t say you’re going to the valley. He said you’re going through the valley” (28). That promise—that you’re going through it—can change everything.
“You prepare a table before me… in the presence of my enemies” (Psalm 23:5)
This is one of the most profound truths in the psalm: God doesn’t always remove our enemies—He prepares a table in front of them.
The table is not escape. It’s not a distant castle. It’s right in the middle of the chaos:
in the anxiety, the betrayal, the diagnosis, the heartbreak.
And still—there’s a table. A table for two. And Jesus is sitting at it.
“The table is in the presence of your enemies so they can hear your song… Everything shifts when you exchange a teacup-sized knowledge of God for an oceanic understanding of who He is” (178).
But the Enemy wants in. He doesn’t arrive with a pitchfork—he slips in with a whisper:
“You’re not enough. You’re alone. This is hopeless.”
And if you’re not vigilant, that whisper becomes your soundtrack.
This is why the battle is for your mind. Psalm 23 isn’t just a poem—it’s a spiritual warfare manual. And to win, you need to take control of your thoughts.
Giglio encourages readers to become the DJ of their minds. When the enemy plays a lie, change the track:
– “I’m not enough” → “His power is made perfect in my weakness” (2 Cor 12:9)
– “I’m alone” → “You are with me” (Psalm 23:4)
– “It’s over” → “He will bring it to completion” (Phil 1:6)
And don’t just reject lies—fight with praise. Worship isn’t a last resort; it’s your offensive weapon.
Praise silences the enemy and magnifies the truth.
When you worship at the table, your cup overflows. Your soul shines. Even your enemies will see that joy is possible—not because the storm is over, but because the Shepherd is near.
So don’t give the Enemy a seat. Guard the table. Feast in front of the darkness. And let your worship become your witness.
Review
Louie Giglio’s Don’t Give the Enemy a Seat at Your Table is an engaging, accessible, and passionate reflection on Psalm 23 as a guide to spiritual warfare in the mind.
His writing is fresh and personal, full of relevant analogies, vivid examples, and pastoral warmth. He draws readers in with urgency and clarity, offering practical ways to resist toxic thoughts, turn to truth, and find freedom in the Shepherd’s presence.
The strength of the book lies in its central insight: that the mind is a battlefield, and the Shepherd has already prepared a table of peace and presence for us. Giglio’s message is full of encouragement, Scripture, and life-giving truth.
That said, the book could easily be half the length. Some sections feel repetitive or meandering, and the writing occasionally wanders from the main idea. While the passion is real, the editing could be tighter.
Perhaps the most significant omission in Giglio’s otherwise compelling reflection is his failure to name the true identity of the banquet: the Eucharist. The Good Shepherd doesn’t just prepare a symbolic table—He becomes the Meal. In the Eucharist, Jesus offers us not just comfort, but His very Self: Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.
Psalm 23 finds its ultimate fulfillment not in a metaphorical table of peace, but in the altar of the Lord, where our cup truly overflows. The Mass is the victory banquet of the Lamb, where Christ feeds us with divine life. Not just “God is with me,” but “God gives Himself to me.” This is the feast that silences lies, strengthens hearts, and wins the battle for our minds—from the inside out.
Prodigal Catholic 
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