Skimmed Over

 Devotion for the Week...

I've been working my way through the Old Testament, reading a little bit each morning while I have my breakfast. Recently I finished 2 Samuel and in the second last chapter there is a list of David's mightiest warriors. It's a long list of 'this guy, son of that guy; this guy, from here; that guy, from there.' You know the sort of list, right? Where a whole bunch of people (mostly men) are listed off with almost no information included besides their name and their father's name. There are similar lists scattered throughout the Bible. Sometimes they're genealogies, tracing someone's family line, other times they're census records. 

Whatever the reason for the list, they're always boring. I usually skim them, looking for the rare entry that includes a little snippet of actual information about the person. Bruce Wilkinson's book The Prayer of Jabez was written about one such snippet, a couple of lines that set Jabez apart in a long list of 'this guy, son of that guy,' which makes me think I'm not the only person longing for actual information about these people. Of course, if a life summary were included for each person those lists would go on and on and on and on.

After reading the list of David's mightiest warriors and thinking about my habit of skimming over the names, it occurred to me that if my name were included on a similar list I likely wouldn't warrant an extra snippet of information. My life has been an ordinary life, without the sort of extraordinary achievements that would get a special treatment when the person making the list needs to include dozens of names. Maybe you'd be listed there with me, 'this quilter, daughter of that woman; that quilter, daughter of so-and-so.' 

These thoughts kept coming back to me over the course of a few days. I branched out from thinking about the people whose names were listed to those whose names didn't even make the list. All those people who lived, but who aren't recorded in any way. They all lived lives full of thoughts, dreams, chores, loves and annoyances, like ours, yet we know nothing about them. 

But God knows everything about them - and us. Don't you love when a sentence starts 'But God'? It's a signal for a complete change from our limited knowledge or perspective to God's, which is unlimited. 

Psalm 139 is a beautiful declaration of God's knowledge of each of us. It starts out with:

O Lord, you have examined my heart

    and know everything about me.

You know when I sit down or stand up.

    You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.

You see me when I travel

    and when I rest at home.

    You know everything I do.

You know what I am going to say

    even before I say it, Lord.

You go before me and follow me.

    You place your hand of blessing on my head.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,

    too great for me to understand! (vv. 1-6).

Though our names would likely be skimmed over by someone reading one of those tedious lists, God knows us fully. Every detail, every moment. His is not a casual knowledge, like of an acquaintance who has met us a few times. No, His is a depth of knowledge we don't even have about ourselves. See above where it says, "You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord." How often do we not know what we're going to say until the words pop out of our mouths? And yet God knows them before we speak.

God knows us. Isn't that an amazing thought? He cares so deeply about each of us that He knows our stories, our dreams and interests, our aches and pains, our joys and sorrows. Such things could never be included in a genealogy or census record, but God knows them anyway. 

Aren't you glad He doesn't skim over our lives, but rather immerses Himself in the details of who we are?