Reflection: Intricately Designed

“Creator-God, you are luminous, transforming light.

You were light even in the darkness of my mother’s womb

Where you designed and copyrighted every delicate part of me;

You wove, cradled, and protected me.

I can’t help but worship you, awesome, matchless designer.

I’m astonished at what you do,

And I’m convinced by the little that I can comprehend.

All that intricate fabricating—

The mysterious tapestry of me in-utero,

Is no mystery to you.

Swaddled in my amniotic sheath, you saw me.

There and then you documented each hour I would breathe,

Determined each day I would live in the light.”

Author’s paraphrase of Psalm 139:13-16

Focus a microscope in and out; in and out; in and out. The detail is every bit mysterious, awesome, captivating no matter the register. That’s what the poet is doing here with his contemplations on God. From the big picture, we’re solemnly, almost silently ushered into the most intimate of places (‘my mother’s room’ as one of our kids used to say). Solemn for its mystery, silent for its companionship to darkness/night. (Here’s where the percussionist comes in with whooshy snare drum and muffled thrum like the nine-month amniotic soundtrack that first introduced each of us to ‘music’.)

Can we sing this mystery? We do. As Brahms put it, “…Slip under the covers. Tomorrow morning, if God wills, you will wake once again.” Parents have lullabied babies to sleep since the dawn of time. This psalm-lullaby doesn’t put us to sleep. But it does convince and put us at rest…for a lifetime, because it reaffirms God’s absolute control. DNA and breath; birth and death; rebirth and eternal rest…and everything in between is entrusted to our sovereign and saving God. It’s a lullaby for a babe in the womb; a babe in arms. It’s a kids’ chorus—a road trip favourite. It’s a lament for a baby buried.  It’s a death-bed hymn. Oh, sing it we must, and we do!

Prayer:

Pray(or sing) with the psalmist in this song by Hallal Music, ‘Arise: Psalm 139’: here.