Songs of the Soul: The God Who Knows Me - A devotional on Psalm 139

Songs of the Soul: The God Who Knows Me

Psalm 139

Have you ever wondered if God is really there—if He truly sees you, knows you, and cares about what you’re going through? In The Count of Monte Cristo, Edmond Dantès is unjustly thrown into a cold island prison. As he’s dragged into his cell, he cries out, “God is everywhere!” The warden sneers: “God may be everywhere—but He is not here.”

Maybe you’ve felt that way before. Maybe you’ve prayed into the silence and thought, If God is everywhere, why can’t I find Him? Psalm 139 is for moments like that. It doesn’t offer a shallow reassurance but an invitation to wrestle with that question until you come to know, deep down, that the God who sees all also loves completely.

“You have searched me, LORD, and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;

you perceive my thoughts from afar.” (vv. 1–2)

Psalm 139 is one of the most intimate portraits of God in all of Scripture. A.W. Tozer once said, “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.” C.S. Lewis took it further: “The truth about us is not what we think of God, but what He thinks of us.”

So—what does God think of you?

1. God Is an Inescapable Reality

David begins with a startling confession:

“Where can I go from your Spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.” (vv. 7–8)

You can’t outrun Him. You can’t hide from Him. Even “on the far side of the sea,” His hand guides and holds you fast. That’s both terrifying and comforting—terrifying if you’re running from Him, comforting if you’re clinging to Him.

Philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre called God “the unviewed Viewer”—always watching, always seeing. For Sartre, that was oppressive; for David, it was liberating. The One who knows him best loves him most.

In our culture, we tend to either suppress our emotions in religion (“Don’t feel that!”) or exalt them in the world (“If it feels right, do it”). The Psalms offer a third way: pray your emotions. Bring your confusion, doubt, and fear into the presence of the God who already sees them. David’s honesty shows us that God’s omnipresence isn’t meant to scare us away but to draw us nearer.

2. God Is a Holy Threat

Wait—threat? Yes, because if God is holy, He cannot ignore evil. His all-seeing presence means every dark corner of the human heart is exposed. David admits that those who oppose God’s ways will face His justice (vv. 19–21). Holiness, after all, isn’t safe—but it’s good.

We recoil from the idea of being fully seen. What if every private thought from this morning flashed across the screen for all to read? We’d shrink back in shame. That’s why Sartre said God’s gaze dehumanizes us; we don’t want to be known like that. We’re afraid of losing control.

David feels that same fear—“such knowledge is too wonderful for me” (v. 6)—but then something changes. What if God’s total knowledge isn’t used against us, but for us? What if the One who sees everything still chooses mercy?

That’s the shift of the gospel. The same God who knows every thought also took those sins to the cross. The One who searches the heart is the One who heals it. In Christ, omniscience becomes grace. The divine gaze no longer threatens—it redeems.

3. God Is a Transforming Delight

By verse 17, David’s tone has completely changed:

“How precious to me are your thoughts, God!

How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand.”

The God who once felt frightening now becomes a delight. His thoughts toward David are precious because they are full of love. The Creator of the universe is thinking about you right now, and His thoughts toward you are not of condemnation but of care.

“You created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” (vv. 13–14)

The imagery is tender, almost artistic. God knits, shapes, designs. He isn’t mass-producing people; He’s crafting originals.

I think of my wife knitting a sweater—each loop intentional, each color chosen with care. It’s not just fabric; it’s love made visible. That’s how God made you. You were fearfully—made with awe—and wonderfully—made with beauty and purpose. Your worth doesn’t depend on productivity or popularity but on divine craftsmanship.

In a culture obsessed with self-image, Psalm 139 anchors us in the truth that our identity is received, not achieved. We are valuable because God made us and loves us.

And David’s response is not merely emotional—it’s transformational. After marveling that God’s presence fills every corner of creation and every fiber of his being, he prays:

“Search me, God, and know my heart;

test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,

and lead me in the way everlasting.” (vv. 23–24)

This is not resignation but invitation. He’s saying, “God, transform me. Expose what’s false. Lead me into what’s true.”

When David prays this, he’s no longer afraid of being fully known. He has learned that the God who sees him most clearly also loves him most deeply. His knowledge is not for condemnation but for transformation.

God’s omniscience becomes a refuge instead of a threat. He sees every wound and every failure—and still welcomes you home.

Three Takeaways

You are fully known.
Every thought, every action, every sin—He knows them all and still loves you.

You are never alone.
There is no place you can go where God is not already there—not in your darkest night or deepest despair.

You are deeply loved.
The One who knows you best loves you most—and proved it by sending His Son to the cross.

Reflection & Discussion Questions

Where in your life do you feel as though God is absent?

How might Psalm 139 reshape the way you pray when you feel unseen or forgotten?

What would it look like for you to pray honestly, “Search me, O God, and know my heart”?

Which truth is hardest for you to believe today: that you are fully known, never alone, or deeply loved?

Closing Prayer

Lord, You see me completely—my fears, my failures, my desires, my doubts—and still You love me. Teach me to live openly before You, to stop hiding behind shame or pretense. When I feel unseen, remind me that Your gaze is steady and kind. When I am afraid, draw me close with the assurance that Your presence is not a threat but a joy. Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. Amen.