O Lord, you have searched me and known me!

Psalm 139:1

Psalm 139 is a remarkably personal psalm. Reading it feels like eavesdropping on a private conversation between a king and his God. Yet its inclusion in the hymnbook of the Bible means that this is a conversation that we’re all invited to have with our God. Throughout the psalm, we’re reminded that our God knows our actions, our thoughts, our ways or habits, our words, our physical bodies, our days, our cares and burdens (see also Ps. 94:19), and our sins. Pause for a moment: Isn’t it amazing how intimately God knows you?

The knowledge that David describes and praises here isn’t the knowledge of a student about a subject or even the relational and physical knowledge of an intimate human relationship. Rather, it is the deep and abiding knowledge that only the One who “knitted [us] together” could have (Ps. 139:13). God knows exactly who we were created to be and what we were designed for (see Eph. 2:10), and he knows how sin has marred our good creation (see Rom. 3:23). He knows our secrets, both those that bring us shame and those that feel too tender to share (see Ps. 44:21).

How can God’s knowledge of us as described in Psalm 139 encourage our hearts?

We can be assured that we’re never alone, never hidden from his presence. Even in the darkest places, our all-knowing God is still leading us and holding us (see vv. 9–12).

Because God made us and wrote the story of our days, we can trust that we were created with great care, wisdom, and intentionality. God’s works are wonderful, and that is true of each of us (see v. 14).

When we feel anxious, conflicted, or lost, God knows us better than we know ourselves, and we can come to him for insight and direction (see vv. 23–24).

We can be honest with God about our sin. He already knows our “grievous way[s]” better than we do (v. 24), and desires to lead us in his way. David knew this very personally: after having his most shameful sins exposed, he received God’s forgiveness and ongoing care (see 2 Sam. 11–12; Ps. 51).

We can come to God with our pain, burdens, and deepest longings. We need not minimize our pain or dismiss the ache of our unmet desires. We can find comfort and rest in the fact that even the parts of ourselves that feel most vulnerable are lovingly known. Whether in the darkness and vulnerability of sleep (see v. 18), the womb (see vv. 13–15), or sin and shame (see vv. 11–12), we can follow David’s lead by finding reassurance in the Lord’s knowledge.

We can rejoice and delight in God’s intimate knowledge of us. How wonderful and precious it is that the Lord would care to know us (see vv. 6, 17).God knows our best and our worst, the beautiful and the ugly, and everything in between. He knows every detail, and yet he loves us still (see Rom. 8:31–39). For me, and perhaps for you too, that is the most wonderful part of all.

—Jenilyn Swett, author, Singleness

Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

Psalm 103:2–5

The degree to which we rejoice in God’s forgiveness of us will be the degree to which we are able to forgive others. It is difficult to forgive when we lose sight of God’s amazing grace. Today let’s remember who God is and what he has done for us!

Psalm 103 celebrates God’s love. King David, the writer of the psalm, begins with shouts of praise: “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits” (vv. 1–2). Can you feel the heart-swell of David’s words as he exhorts himself (“O my soul”) to praise God? He is caught up in gratitude for all that God has done.

Throughout the entire psalm, David reminds his soul of God’s steadfast love. In verses 3–5, he recalls the many benefits of knowing the Lord: God forgives your sin, he heals your diseases, he redeems your life from hell, he shows you steadfast love and mercy, and he satisfies you with good so that you can have strength like an eagle. What an amazing God! Amen?

It’s not surprising that David celebrates the Lord for forgiving all his sin. He is the Bible’s most famous murderer and adulterer, after all. He abused his kingly authority and suffered God’s painful judgment. So when David speaks of God’s forgiveness, he is speaking very personally. God’s amazing grace is a sweet balm to David’s soul.

As we look at David’s life story, found in 1 Samuel 16 through 1 Kings 2:11, we find that he was quintessentially human. He soared to high highs of faithfulness and plummeted to low lows of selfishness, just like you and me. David experienced God amidst his victories, and he also experienced God amidst his sins. The Lord walked alongside him—supplying courage, wisdom, seasons of discipline, and ultimately forgiveness and restoration. As David grew in his relationship with the Lord, he could not help but look back at God’s love and praise him for it: “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me!”

Can you relate to David? Have you experienced God’s presence in the highs and lows of your life? How has God shown up for you? Has he ever supplied you with what you needed at just the right time? Forgiveness? Healing? Redemption? Steadfast love? Like David, do you need to remind yourself of God’s kindness today?

If we are to grow in our ability to forgive other people, we must first remember who God is and what he has done for us. As we meditate on God’s love and mercy, may we find our souls tender for the task of forgiveness.

—Hayley Satrom, author, Forgiveness

My father and my mother have forsaken me, but the Lord will take me in.

Psalm 27:10

David seeks from God what a child seeks from his or her parents. We look to a parent to receive, listen to, guide, and protect us, don’t we? Well, that is exactly what David is seeking from God.

We seek acceptance. In the world, we experience much rejection. Parents reject children; children reject parents. We are rejected by spouses, erstwhile friends, potential employers, and others in dozens of diverse situations. But God does not refuse us. David prays, “Turn not your servant away in anger. . . . Cast me not off; forsake me not” (v. 9), and he knows, even as he prays, that God will not forsake him. God has accepted him in the past. He will continue to accept him.

We seek to be heard. Sometimes children talk to us only because they want to be listened to, and unfortunately many parents are too busy to listen. Is God ever too busy to listen when we speak to him? Never! God is a true, listening parent, a parent who says: “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you” (Matt. 7:7).

We seek guidance. Which of us knows the way to walk so we will be kept out of sin and make progress in the way of righteousness? No one! We no more know how to live our lives for God than children know how to avoid danger and care for themselves. They need to be taught, as do we. In God we have one who can be turned to for guidance. David prays, “Teach me your way, O Lord, and lead me on a level path because of my enemies” (Ps. 27:11).

We seek protection. The fourth thing a child looks for in a parent is protection, and David is certainly seeking this of the Lord because of his many enemies. They are the background of the psalm. They are the bullies of the neighborhood, and David needs the protecting presence of God just as a small child needs his father in such circumstances.

What are we to do when answers to our prayers are delayed? We simply need to wait. “Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord” (v. 14). If some wealthy person promised to give you an expensive gift, wouldn’t you wait for it expectantly? If you were in trouble and a king were coming to your aid, wouldn’t you be alert for his appearance? God is just such a generous benefactor and powerful king. He is well worth waiting for.

—James Montgomery Boice, author, Come to the Waters

“Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to listen than the fat of rams.” . . . Saul said to Samuel, “I have sinned, for I have transgressed the commandment of the Lord and your words, because I feared the people and obeyed their voice.”

1 Samuel 15:22, 24

Saul was Israel’s first king. His inauguration marked a key transition in the nation’s history—even though he was reluctant to accept the responsibility and even tried to hide from it! But God gave Saul his Spirit and promised him everything he needed in order to rule well. All Saul had to do was to fear God and obey his commands. If he did, God promised that “it will be well” (1 Sam. 12:14). Not too far into his rule, God called Saul to war against the Amalekites and told him to destroy everything. But Saul kept the best of the livestock for himself and destroyed only that which was worthless or of poor quality. This partial obedience was disobedience. 

Saul’s confession in 1 Samuel 15:24 shows us how the fear of man works. Why did he disobey God? Because he “feared the people and obeyed their voice.” According to the Bible, fear is more than feeling terrified. Our fear of man certainly includes that, but it also means revering people, needing them, or valuing their opinion so much that our decisions end up being controlled by them. We obey what we fear. As a result, our fear of others is a worship issue. Every human heart is always worshipping something; we were made for worship (see Isa. 43:7; John 4:20–24)! The question is, who we are worshipping—God or people?

Sprite’s slogan tells us, “Obey your thirst.” This soft-drink advertisement ends up being pretty theologically accurate. What we value indicates what we fear losing or never achieving. We can’t imagine living without it, so this fear directs our decisions and motivates us to act. Isn’t this what happens when the sports enthusiast prioritizes watching his team above attending church? Don’t we refuse to share the gospel with a friend because we fear how she’ll respond? Aren’t we reluctant to take risks for good things because we can’t bear the thought of being a failure? We thirst for and value something more than God in these moments. We obey what we fear.

—Zach Schlegel, author, Fearing Others

A woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that [Jesus] was reclining at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and . . . she began to wet his feet with her tears . . . and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee . . . saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner.”

Luke 7:37–39

It is one of shame’s most insidious remarks: “If they really knew me, they wouldn’t love me anymore.”

You might spend your life convinced that the only reason people still like you is that they don’t really know you. If they knew what you were truly like, the sins you struggle with, what actually happened in your past . . . if they really knew you, the true you, all of you, they wouldn’t love you anymore. ˝They would change their minds about you. ˝They would walk away. Maybe this has already happened to you.

So you hide and cover up. You pretend. If acceptance and love are contingent on your ability to keep the ugly parts of yourself out of sight, hiding naturally becomes your way of life.

Today’s passage directs our attention to a sinful woman. She is not any ordinary sinner. Her life is shameful enough that “sinner” has become her primary identity and public reputation. She draws near to Jesus to anoint his feet with ointment—and Jesus receives her. A Pharisee, watching the scene unfold, thinks to himself, “If [ Jesus] were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is” (v. 39). Here we find the all-too-familiar refrain: “If he really knew . . .”

The Pharisee assumes that the only reason Jesus receives this woman is that he does not know her. Yet Jesus knows everything. He knows the sinful woman—her past, her present, her sins, her brokenness, her reputation. In the same way, he knows us—our past, our present, our sins, our brokenness, our reputations. And he does not get up to leave. He does not cast us away. He receives us. He loves us.

This is Jesus. Whatever views we have of him, whatever half-truths we have believed about him, let it be known that our Savior receives shameful, disgraceful, disdained, hurt, and broken people into his presence—and not out of ignorance, obliviousness, or limited knowledge. He knows us fully and loves us nonetheless.

We are often so certain that Jesus has no place or patience for messy, ugly, wounded, imperfect people. Yes, our sins grieve him. Yes, he is committed to changing us. But his posture isn’t what we expect. Jesus knows us—as we are today. He knows us—yes, even those parts of us. And knowing us, he still wants us to be near him.

— Esther Liu, author, Shame