This morning, as my toddler followed me around the house for what felt like hours asking for Cheerios, I came up with a little “psalm”. I’m pretty sure that every parent can relate…
You search for me,
And you always find me.
You know when I sit to drink my coffee,
And when I rise to go use the bathroom.
You perceive my desire to read the morning paper from afar.
You discern when I am going out without you
And when I am lying down to sleep at night.
You are, somehow, familiar with all my ways.
Before the word “no” is on my tongue,
You are colouring on your dresser.
You hem me in behind and before
And you lay your hand upon everything that you are not supposed to touch.
The knowledge of how you do this is incomprehensible to me,
Too lofty for me to attain.
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go upstairs to do my make-up, you are there.
If I hide in the basement with a bowl of cereal, you are there.
If I say, ‘Surely the darkness of this obscure closet will hide me so I can talk on the phone for a minute’,
even the darkness will not be dark to you.
And yet, God created your inmost being.
He knit you together in my womb.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made.
God’s works are wonderful.
I know that full well.
And I wouldn’t trade you for the world.