In your hands you mold the clay
You do the woodwork
You shape the masterpiece
In your hands I give myself worth
My life
My knowledge of who you are inside and out
You know me
Psalm 139
For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.
1
You have searched me, Lord,
and you know me.
2
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4
Before a word is on my tongue
you, Lord, know it completely.
5
You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
6
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
7
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
11
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
12
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
13
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17
How precious to me are your thoughts,God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18
Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.
You have always seen what life is in me forming me before the very seed of life
Like a baby I was born
Like a seed I started as a tiny bean becoming into a full women in your eyes
Shadows lurking on every side trying to shun me down
My image you formed created by you
A story I told as I made my choice in each journey I step foot upon my path
Trying to hide in every effort of self acceptance I tried
You always bringing me back
For from you there is nothing I can hide
Nothing!
Not even my self image I see in me
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
You know my story as I am still being created in fullness
In your hands you mold the clay
You do the woodwork
You shape the masterpiece
In your hands I give myself worth
My life
My knowledge of who you are inside and out
You know me
You mold the clay that forms me
