Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18

I have an adult child who is non-binary. This means they do not wish to be confined to specific gender norms, but would prefer to be referred to using they/them pronouns. I am fully aware that even writing that sentence carries a weight and potentially divisive content. However, when I read Psalm 139, I cannot get away from the idea that God knows my child. That God loves my child. Even though the initial revelation was surprising to me, God already had this information available. Indeed, God created them, knit them together. Formed them and their identity in ways I could not understand or discern.

If, as we believe, God has orchestrated the wonder of humanity and the rest of creation, it seems somewhat limiting to reduce God’s creativity to black and white divisions, when in their majesty and immensity, they have made so many variances that are exquisitely beautiful. Indeed, these verses remind me of the uniqueness of each of us, the ways in which we have been put together to reflect a portion of the Creator God’s image to the rest of the world.

For a recent birthday, I reimagined verses 13-16 of this Psalm as a reminder of God’s work in the life of my child:

You created me.

You molded & shaped & crafted

my pieces & parts

You infused me with your goodness

with kindness and strength.

I praise you for making me in this way,

for you only make good people

created in your image

built with love

forged in the furnaces of the ultimate Maker.

As you watch me

grow to who you have set me free to be

launched from the womb of my parent,

I can feel your knowing smile

wash over my spirit

I hear you call me by my name

and whisper beloved you are mine.

These words aren’t just for someone who is non-binary. These words are the essence of a psalm written by a man who struggled with infidelity, not only to his wives, but to his own ethics and ultimately to God. These words were written by a man whose leadership wreaked havoc on others, whose warring spirit ultimately led to him not being the one who would raise up God’s temple, despite a deep desire to do so. David’s heart may have ultimately been classified by ancient writers as being aligned with God’s heart, but it was not a singular moment that defined him that way. Instead, it was a lifetime of obedience, a lifetime of worship, wrapped in a life of human struggle and defiance and defeat and victory. David was able to articulate a message of God’s insight into his very being, even when his being was very distant from God’s purposes.

Once upon a time, I believed this psalm to tell us that God had written our lives out in detail and that if we made a mistake, we would wreck all of God’s best plans. I no longer think that is what this means. Instead, it is a reminder that God is always with us, always working alongside us to develop who we are meant to be in God’s image. When we move in a direction that is new or different, it doesn’t surprise God or make God angry or destroy anything: God moves with us, longing for us to develop the ability to sense God’s presence, and how it is that God is at work in us.

The essential message, distilled to its very core in these words is that you and every person to ever draw breath in this world, has been gifted with God’s intention and beauty; the image of the Most High is embedded in every human, and God is working in every life to bring the freedom and love that are at the very core of God’s being to fruition in those lives. As Christians, we see that at work through the resurrection, through the life and death of Christ. But it is important to recognize that this perspective God gave David to pen for us is not just for those who are already following Christ, but it is for every person. If we believe that God has loved the world, and we believe in prevenient grace, and we believe in the work of the Holy Spirit to draw everyone to God: then this message of God knowing the truth of every person is FOR every person.

It's why Jesus told us to love our neighbor as ourself. It’s why Jesus emphasized praying for and loving even our enemies. Because embedded in the core of each of us, right at the place where our truth and our spirit and our worship and our humanness reside, there is the fingerprint of the God who whispers “beloved you are mine.” Some of us have already heard this call and committed ourselves to following the Lover by loving others. Some are straining to hear it and need us to amplify the message. Still more have drowned the Voice in other pursuits and do not believe they need to hear or know it. None of our responses change the longing and love of God. None of our responses erase the reality of an active, living God at work in our world, reaching out and through people.

In the end, our identity as image-bearers is important information about us that shapes whatever other identity we have. David’s psalm reminds us that our unique way of being image-bearers is intentionally created into us, and that no matter what we look like, feel like, or become, we cannot surprise the One who loves us. We cannot go somewhere outside that love or God’s intentional unknowable knowing of us.