Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it. –Psalm 139:6

“God works in mysterious ways.”

“His thoughts are not our thoughts.”

“God’s ways are not our ways.”

These oft-quoted (and absolutely Biblical) phrases tend to come to mind during a time of personal struggle or deep tragedy, but just as the verse quoted above, they speak to a far deeper truth.

Our mind is finite. It has boundaries. We have a mental capacity and a cap on the knowledge we can attain. God, on the other hand, is infinite. He is the creator of all knowledge and the origin of all wisdom.

We have been on a quest throughout our entire existence to try to figure out ourselves, our world, our universe and our God— and try as we may, regardless of the answers we come up with— our collective knowledge will always add up to a tiny blue dot on an infinite canvas we can neither fully see nor fully grasp.

God’s knowledge is so high above ours that it goes beyond all we can fathom—and yet, what does Psalm 139 tell us about the focus of this omniscient God’s thoughts? It tells us that He has searched our souls, that He knows when we sit and when we stand, that He knows what we’re going to say before we say it, He knows what we do and He knows where we are.

This amazing God with all this infinite knowledge chooses to make the business of the creatures on this tiny blue dot in an alarmingly large universe His business.

Not only is the knowledge of God too wonderful and high for us to attain, His knowledge of every one of us is much loftier than we could ever grasp.

I know I cannot comprehend the knowledge of God. I know how finite I am. But if the knowledge of God is something I will never be able to wrap my mind around, the love of God is even more puzzling. I cannot understand why a God so great and mighty and above all things would bother with a poor, helpless sinner like me. It reminds me of the lyrics from an increasingly popular song titled “My Savior, My God” by Aaron Shust:

“That He would leave His place on High
And come for sinful man to die,
You count it strange,
So once did I,
Before I knew my Savior.”

“You know when I sit and when I rise.” –Psalm 139:2

You may not care when Uncle Luther sits or rises, but God does.

Of course, if one believes in an all-knowing God, one would have to conclude He is aware of all we do. But don’t brush over the power of this verse. Don’t look at it just as Scriptural evidence of God’s omniscience. Look at the minutia. God knows when I sit and when I rise.

That He knows this may be obvious, but the fact that He cares is amazing. How many people do you care that much about? When you’re at work, do you care if your spouse is sitting or standing? I love my wife more than I could ever describe in this blog, but I’ve never sat at work and thought, “I wonder if she’s sitting down right now.”

Social networking allows us to keep track of such small details, but even though someone on Twitter may inform me they are sitting down (in 140 characters or less, of course,) I’m not going to care. I might think “Thanks for sharing. That’s nice.” Then I would go on about my day and forget. It’s such a minor detail.

And yet, God is aware of when we sit and when we stand. The God who is described as all-knowing, all-powerful and ever-present, actually bothers with such minor details of my life.

I don’t know what to do with that kind of love. I’m certainly not capable of loving that way.

It’s easy to think that God is with us during our great triumphs and that He is available to rescue us in our deep despair, but it isn’t easy to see God in the small stuff. Does God really know when I cut my toenails? Is He with me when I’m driving to work? When I walk to the mailbox every day, is He watching me then?

He is so great and my life is so dull. Why would He take such an interest in my sitting and rising, my coming and going? Why does God make my business His business?

photo credit: lipstickproject