To be known by the Lord—how terrifying and wondrous and electrifying all together. When I sit down and rise up, when I go in and go out and lie down and even my thoughts you know before I get my lips in motion to spit them out. All is this You know, and more.
Is there anywhere that I could go where You wouldn’t know what I’m up to? Flitting across the skies as the rays of the sun get beamed up? Or sailing off to the ends of the seas? Nowhere—there is no place you cannot just reach out and tap me on the shoulder and guide me.
Molded and shaped and refined inside the womb—you’ve done all of this, so of course you are even more intimate in knowing me than I. All of the ingredients from the innermost earthly sources you know, having created them, so I am all yours, even before You fashioned me together. Nothing is “mine.”
Who could know even one inkling of your thoughts, since even a smattering of them are far beyond numbering, more than the sands of all the beaches and oceans.
But, dare I mention? If only you could spend some cycles on those who torment me—and you. They are treacherous, evil, and I despise and hate them all. Please!
But, at least take care of my own anxieties, my imperfections. You already know all there is, but investigate me thoroughly, put me through all of your diagnostics, your probing. If you see anything, anything at all offensive to you…clean me up, wash me through and through and lead me into the straight and narrow, so that I might be pleasing to You. I am completely Yours.
To be known by the Lord—how terrifying and wondrous and electrifying all at once.
