“You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.” Psalm 139:3
The fact that God knows everything we do can be comforting and frightening, depending on whether or not we feel close to Him.
In this Psalm, the speaker feels both emotions: confidence that God is always there and the recognition that there’s nowhere to escape.
I have nothing close to God’s omniscience and omnipresence. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to know everything and be everywhere.
But I have felt conflicted about my daughter’s presence and absence plenty of times.
When we are with each other for too long, I want separation.
“Can’t you spend some time on your own? Where can I go from your presence?!?”
When I drop her off at her daycare, I always tell I her love her, but sometimes — when I’m in a hurry or ready to go — I will quickly scoot her through her classroom door and make a hasty escape. “Whew! I’ve got a couple of hours of time to focus on work. For awhile, at least, she’s someone else’s responsibility.”
At other times, when I haven’t seen her in awhile, I want to be around her. When I wake her up in the morning, she’s always happy to see me and ready to snuggle before she starts her day. When I pick her up from daycare, she will spot me from the playground and yell, “Daddy!” with glee and run to meet me before we head home.
Yesterday, we played music together and even picked up trash along our back country road. I enjoyed her company and was glad we had that time together.
So this morning, I felt especially conflicted as I prepared to be absent from her for the first day in nearly two weeks.
My daughter has been in quarantine, and today was the first day she could return to school. This made my wife and I nervous for various reasons.
First, we remained nervous about her health, though she’s thankfully remained asymptomatic.
Second, we were worried about her lack of desire to return to school at all. For the past two weeks, she’s had the opportunity to get up when she wanted, where pajamas most of the day, play with her pet cats at her pleasure, and eat the snacks she loves. Also, did I mention puzzles and hide and go seek and cartoons and a nap time that allows her to not have to lay down but simply play in her room? She much preferred that to going to school where she would have to mind the teacher and attempt to take a real nap and generally have to get along with others.
Third, we were worried about our daughter’s new teacher. While she was out from daycare, her old teacher left and a new one started yesterday. Not only would our daughter not know the teacher, the teacher would know everyone else but her. How would that go?
Fourth, we were worried about the stigma associated with her absence. Would her friends stay away from her because they sensed something was wrong with her?
All of this was in play as I dropped her off this morning.
And yet…
She didn’t cling to me. Instead, she clung to her stuffed animal.
While, she didn’t rush to the new teacher, she eagerly went inside her room.
I can’t physically be with her for the rest of the day.
I had to leave.
I couldn’t promise her that I would know her going out and her lying down.
For a few hours today, I will not be familiar with all her ways…at least not in the way I was while she was quarantined.
So as I did on the way to school, I said a prayer for her as I left the school, thanking God for His presence before, behind, beside, and all around her.
He can discern her going out and lying down. Her ways are always known to Him.
As I drove home, I prayed again for my daughter’s safety and health. I prayed for greater delight in her presence and a humbler attitude in seeking God’s direction for how to bring her up well.
I desire for her to know that she’s never alone, that God is always with her, and that — without a doubt — this is a source of comfort.