March 18

1 O LORD, thou hast searched me, and known me.

2 Thou knowest my dewisiting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off.

3 Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways.

4 For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether

5 Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me

6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high. I cannot attain unto it

7 Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence?

8 If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I maketh my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.

9 If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;

10 Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me

11 If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me.

12 Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shreeth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.

13 For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother's womb.

14 I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.

15 My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.

16 Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.

17 How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!

18 If I should count them, they are more in number than the send: when I awake, I am still with thee.

19 Surely thou wilt slay the wicked, O God: depart from me therefore, ye bloody men

20 For they speak against thee wickedly, and thine enemies take thy name in vain.

21 Do not I hate them, O LORD, that hate thee? and am not I grieved with those that rise up against thee?

22 I hate them with perfect hatred: I count them mine enemies

23 Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts:

24 And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

(156)

"The brightness of this psalm is like unto a sapphire stone, or Ezekiel's 'terrible crystal;' it flames out with such flashes of light as to turn night into day. Like a Pharos, this holy song casts a clear light even to the uttermost parts of the sea, and warns us against that practical atheism which ignores the presence of God, and so makes shipwreck of the soul."—C. H. Spurgeon.

"Note how the psalmist makes his doctrine personal: he saith not, 'O God, thou knowest all things;' but 'thou hast known me.' It is ever our wisdom to lay truth home to ourselves. How wonderful the contrast between the observer and the observed! Jehovah and me! Yet this most intimate connection exists, and therein lies our hope."—C. H. Spurgeon.

"So far from thinking it a hardship to be subject to this scrutiny, he counts it a most valuable privilege. However others may regard this truth, 'to me,' my judgment and my feelings, 'how costly,' valuable, 'are thy thoughts,' that is, thy perpetual attention to me."—Joseph Addison Alexander.

My path and my pallet, my running and my resting, are alike within the circle of Thine observation. I may leave Thy path, but Thou never leavest mine. I may sleep and forget Thee, but Thou dost never slumber, nor fall into oblivion concerning Thy creatures.

Closet Promise.—He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust; His truth shall be thy shield and buckler.—Psalm xci. 4.

O merciful One!

When men are farthest, then Thou art most near;

When men pass coldly by, my weakness shun, Thy chariot I hear.

Thy glorious face

Is leaning toward me, and its holy light Shines upon my lowly dwelling-place, And there is no more night.

On bended knee,

I recognize Thy purpose clearly shown; My vision Thou hast dimmed that I might see Thyself—Thyself alone.

I have naught to fear.

This darkness is a shadow of Thy wing; Beneath it I am almost sacred: here Can come no evil thing.

—John Milton.