We don’t know when David wrote the song we know as Psalm 139. But we know that David’s life wasn’t a perfect life. He’d killed people and had people killed. He’d made some mistakes with his family. He’d spent part of his life on the run. He even pretended that he was insane once, just to save his live.
And then one day he stops. And he writes this song.
You know everything there is to know about me. What I think, where I go, what I do, what I say.
That could be creepy.
But God, You know me and you don’t abandon me. You know me and you are still there waiting patiently for me. Even if I do everything I can to run away from you, because I’m afraid I’ve disappointed both of us, when I wake up, you are sitting in the chair, waiting patiently, as if you have all the time in the universe.
Not because you hate me. Not because you want to trap me. Not because you are waiting to scold me.
Because you love me. And want to help me see what you see when you look at me.
You know me because you made me. The way that you made me is amazing. The love for music, the need for other people. The things I can do and the things I need other people to bring out of me.
And then song pauses while the songwriter thinks. What is he going to do with this awareness of God? Because it could push us to run away, to fight back. “Get out of my head.”
Instead, David opens himself up to God.
I give you permission to do what you are already doing. I’ll go along with you. Search my thoughts. Test my motives. If I’m screwing up, point it out and so we can fix it, you and I. And lead me in your path.
This was part of a funeral message I wrote recently.