Psalm 139

                 You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you percive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. (Psalm 139:1-6)

                This is the last of the wisdom psalms mentioned in the book I’m reading. It’s also my favorite psalm and today’s part of it is my favorite part. It also came up as the passage of the day on a drama queen day. Queue the dramatic music. Because of the problems my left knee has been causing, my thoughts are starting down the “I’m going to lose my job. I’m going to have to give up gardening. I thought this was the direction God wanted me to go. Was I wrong? What will become of me?” Visions of wheelchairs and a life in ruins wander through my imagination. The questions that run through my mind might also be answered in Psalm 23. Is what’s happening an indication of a change in direction – an exit to a new road? Have I been on the wrong road for the past 7 years? Was it just a short detour and now I’m supposed to give up what I’ve been trying to build? Or am I supposed to stay on this road, and this is just a rough patch? (Descending tympany for the finish! DUN, Dun, dun.)

                The first thing the passage above tells us is that God knows. He is, as Hagar named Him, El Roi, “the God who sees me.” He knows my logical imagination: if this, then that. He knows when I sit, when I rise, and the limits of my body’s capacities. He discerns when I go out and gets busy, and how much I need that, and when I lie down to rest, and how much I need that, too. And the big one: He perceives my thoughts from afar. He is aware of my mental gerbil wheels and doors to imagery worlds that may or may not merge with reality. Even before the first strains of the dramatic music of the last paragraph, He knows. He knows I need patience and trust more than I need stability, control, and right answers. He knows I want stability, control, and right answers more than I want patience and trust.

                He does things with all that knowledge. He hems me in, behind and before so that I can’t squirm free and head in directions I’m not ready to go, or that I should not go. He lays His hand on me. My immediate thought about that is the laying on of hands that is associated with healing. But what He heals may not be what I think needs to be healed. It’s also associated with commissioning (not entirely unlike the British bit of knighting someone with a sword). A third connection is connection. You put your hand on the shoulder of the person whose side you’re taking.  Or, sometimes, a person puts a hand on the shoulder of someone they are trying to stop from doing something foolish, dangerous, or illegal. This usually means either that the person laying hands on someone else has connection with that person or authority over that person. Or both. There needn’t be just one reason for it. And in that hemmed in place, with his hand on my shoulder, He teaches me.

                Perhaps the biggest point today is that He knows me and doesn’t walk away. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.