Tuesday, September 4, 2012

A Prayerful Paraphrase of Psalm 139

O Lord, my God, you have dug down deep into my heart and no one knows me like you do. You have restored me to myself. Knowing my every move, when I wake and fall asleep and all between, you know my thoughts—all my secret thoughts—from wherever you are. I can keep nothing from you. And still you love me!
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Not only my thoughts, but my ways are known to you. You have planned all my paths, and you know exactly where I will turn. You know my sin better than I do. Even before I think of something to say, you know what will be said—never is anything I say new to you, O Lord.
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And so although I run from you, Lord, I can never escape. You are behind me and ahead of me, and your hand is always upon me. When I resist you, when I am unwise, you are still compassionate and hold me lightly. Much knowledge is too wonderful for me; your knowledge is too high and I cannot fathom it.
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Where can I truly hide from you, O Spirit of God? Where possibly could I flee your presence? If I were to fly to heaven there you would be. And in descending through a dark night of the soul to Sheol you also are there. You are everywhere, all the time.
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If I were to fly like a migrating bird or swim the seas continuously around the globe, you still would be right there before me, observing me, providing for me. Jehovah Jireh, you cling fast to my soul and never let go.
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No matter how dark the dark night gets, or how forlorn my hope comes to develop into despair, you make these dark nights light again, and my hope is miraculously renewed. You, Lord, light up the darkness. There is none like you in all creation.
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It was you, Lord, who conceived thought of me, crafting me cell for cell inside my mother’s uterus. You made my limbs, my organs and my mind and you moulded these around my soul. I praise you, Almighty God, for I am stunningly and wondrously made. I am a testament, as are all your creatures, of your eternal finery of design and construction.
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You oversaw this project, the making of me, in confined darkness. Your sight is like no other sight. Who can see these things but you, Lord? You made me in secret, and ensured a mystery, and only you could be praised for creating me. You marvelled as you watched me take form, and you were aware of all my days at that very time. You saw me as an eternal creature before I was born.
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How incredibly heavy and glorious are your thoughts, my Covenant Lord. There are myriads more than I can count and I am perfectly unaware of even the beginnings of your mind. I do try to count them, because they are intriguingly intricate, but they are too many... and still, you hold me.
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You have no pity on those that hate me; those bloodthirsty fiends! Those who are enemies of you, Lord, are those also that I despise. They speak filth and are proud of their evil deeds. Do I not hate them who hate you, O Lord?
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Burrow into my soul, my God, and discern how I really feel; challenge me to the truth and know my actual thoughts. If there is any disgusting way about me, purge it from me I pray, and lead me forevermore on your holy path eternally.
© 2012 S. J. Wickham.

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