The Divine Miniaturist and the Book of Days Text: Psalm 139:13-18
Introduction: The War on Reality
We live in an age of rebellion, and this rebellion is not content to be a merely political or social affair. It is a metaphysical rebellion. It is a war against the very fabric of reality, a determined attempt to un-create the world. Our culture has declared war on the givenness of things. We are told that men can become women, that a child in the womb is not a child, that marriage is whatever we want it to be, and that our lives are a product of blind, pitiless indifference. This is not just foolishness; it is a frontal assault on the Creator. And when you declare war on the Creator, you necessarily declare war on His creation, including, most especially, yourself.
The secular materialist must believe that he is an accident, a collection of molecules arranged by chance, a cosmic orphan with no author, no purpose, and no ultimate meaning. To maintain this worldview, he must actively suppress the thunderous testimony of his own existence. He must ignore the fact that he is a living, breathing miracle, a masterpiece of divine engineering. He must look at his own hands and see nothing but meat, look at his own thoughts and see nothing but electrical fizz, and look at a newborn baby and see nothing but a choice.
Into this bleak and insane asylum, Psalm 139 speaks with the force of a battering ram. David, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, pulls back the curtain on the secret place of our origins. He shows us that we are not random occurrences but bespoke creations. We are not accidents; we are artifacts. We are not meaningless blobs of tissue; we are poems written by the finger of God in the dark. This passage is a profound meditation on the creative artistry of God, the absolute sovereignty of God, and the personal, intimate knowledge that God has of every single one of us before we ever draw our first breath. This is not sentimental poetry. This is the theological foundation for the sanctity of every human life. It is God's testimony against the blood-soaked sacrament of our modern age, the altar of abortion, upon which millions of children, fearfully and wonderfully made, are sacrificed to the god of convenience.
The Text
For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb. I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret, And intricately woven in the depths of the earth; Your eyes have seen my unshaped substance; And in Your book all of them were written The days that were formed for me, When as yet there was not one of them. How precious are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand. When I awake, I am still with You.
(Psalm 139:13-18 LSB)
The Divine Craftsman (v. 13)
The psalmist begins by identifying the ultimate artisan, the true cause behind the effect of his own existence.
"For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb." (Psalm 139:13)
Notice the direct address. This is not a detached, scientific observation. It is worship. "You." The psalmist is not talking about an impersonal life force or a blind biological process. He is talking to a Person. The formation of a human being in the womb is a direct, personal, and intentional act of God Almighty. He is the one who "formed my inward parts," my kidneys, my heart, my lungs. The Hebrew word for "formed" here speaks of acquiring or creating something as one's own possession. God is not a distant landlord; He is a hands-on creator who claims ownership of His work.
The second phrase is even more intimate: "You wove me in my mother's womb." This is the language of a master weaver, a textile artist. It pictures God interlacing muscle, bone, and sinew, creating an intricate and beautiful tapestry. The womb is God's workshop. A woman's body is not her own to do with as she pleases; it is a space that God has consecrated for the most astonishing of His creative works. To interfere with that work, to violently tear apart that divine tapestry, is to thrust a bloody hand into the face of the artist. It is an act of cosmic vandalism. It is crucial to see the personal pronouns here. "You wove me." Not "it," not "a fetus," but "me." David understood his personal identity as continuous from conception to his present moment. The person in the womb was him.
The Appropriate Response: Awe and Thanksgiving (v. 14)
Faced with the reality of God's creative genius, the only sane response is worshipful awe.
"I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well." (Psalm 139:14)
True theology always leads to doxology. David understands that his very existence is a cause for praise. He is "fearfully and wonderfully made." The word "fearfully" points to a profound sense of awe, reverence, and holy dread. To contemplate the complexity of the human body, from the vast network of the nervous system to the intricate dance of cellular biology, is to stand before an Everest of divine intelligence. Only a fool, as the psalmist says elsewhere, can look at this and say in his heart there is no God.
And we are "wonderfully made," meaning we are set apart, distinguished, and unique. Each person is a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. There are no mass-produced human beings. This demolishes the collectivistic mindset of the state, which sees people as interchangeable cogs in a machine. God sees individuals. He makes individuals. And because He makes them, they have inherent dignity and value that no court or government can grant or take away.
David's conclusion is not a hesitant guess; it is a deep, settled conviction. "My soul knows it very well." This is not just intellectual assent. This is knowledge that has penetrated to the very core of his being. Our generation has been catechized in the lie of materialism for so long that this deep soul-knowledge has been buried under layers of propaganda. But it is still there. Every man knows, in his heart of hearts, that he is more than just matter. He knows he is a creature, and he knows he is accountable to his Creator. The work of the evangelist is not to create this knowledge, but to awaken it.
The Secret Place and the Divine Gaze (v. 15-16a)
David now elaborates on the hiddenness of this creative process, which is no barrier to the all-seeing eyes of God.
"My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret, And intricately woven in the depths of the earth; Your eyes have seen my unshaped substance..." (Psalm 139:15-16a)
The womb is a "secret" place, dark and hidden from human eyes. But it is not hidden from God. Nothing is. "Darkness and light are all alike to Thee." David uses a striking metaphor, saying he was "intricately woven in the depths of the earth." This is poetic language, not a geology lesson. It connects the creation of man to the creation of the earth itself, reminding us of Adam, who was formed from the dust of the ground (Gen. 2:7). Each of us is a new Adam, a new creation from the dust, fashioned in a secret place by the same God.
The phrase "intricately woven" is a single Hebrew word, raqam, which means to embroider with color. The Vulgate translated this beautifully as acu pictus sum, "I am painted as with a needle." This is the work of a divine miniaturist, painting with astonishing detail in the dark. This is not the work of a blind process; it is the work of a supreme artist.
And God's vision is not limited to the finished product. "Your eyes have seen my unshaped substance." The Hebrew word is golem, which refers to an embryo, a formless thing, a rolled-up, unfinished substance. Even at the earliest, most undeveloped stage, when the human eye would see nothing but a clump of cells, the eyes of God see a person. He sees the golem, and He sees the king that this golem will become. This verse is a direct refutation of any argument that personhood begins at some later stage of development, whether viability, or brain activity, or birth. God's gaze confers personhood from the very beginning.
The Book of Days (v. 16b)
This next clause is one of the most staggering affirmations of God's absolute sovereignty in all of Scripture.
"...And in Your book all of them were written The days that were formed for me, When as yet there was not one of them." (Psalm 139:16b)
God does not just create our physical substance; He ordains our entire lifespan. Before David had lived a single day, every single one of his days was already written down in God's book. This is the doctrine of divine providence, stated with breathtaking clarity. God is the author of our story. He does not just know the future; He has written it. Our days are "formed" for us by Him.
This truth is a rock of comfort for the believer and a stone of stumbling for the unbeliever. For the Christian, it means that our lives are not a series of random events. Nothing that happens to us is an accident. Sickness, trial, loss, joy, success, every breath we take, it is all part of the story that God has written for our good and His glory (Romans 8:28). It means that our times are in His hands (Psalm 31:15), and no man can shorten our life by a single second outside of His decree.
For the unbeliever, this is an intolerable doctrine because it obliterates human autonomy. The modern man wants to be the author of his own story, the captain of his own soul. But the Bible tells us that there is only one Author, one Sovereign. We are not the playwrights; we are characters in His play. Our freedom is a real, creaturely freedom, but it is a freedom that operates entirely within the scope of His sovereign decree. He ordains all things, and He does so in such a way that our choices are real and we are responsible for them. How does this work? It is a mystery that is too high for us, but it is the plain teaching of Scripture. To reject it is to reject the God of the Bible and fashion a smaller, tamer god in our own image.
The Overwhelming Sum of God's Thoughts (v. 17-18)
David concludes this section by returning again to worship, overwhelmed by the vastness of God's personal care and attention.
"How precious are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand. When I awake, I am still with You." (Psalm 139:17-18)
The God who wrote the book of our days is not a distant, detached author. He is intimately and constantly thinking about His people. And His thoughts toward us are "precious." They are valuable, weighty, and full of lovingkindness. This is the opposite of the pagan worldview, where the gods are capricious, angry, or, at best, indifferent. The God of the Bible is a God who has us constantly on His mind.
The sheer number of these thoughts is incomprehensible. They "outnumber the sand." This is not just a poetic flourish. It means that God's attention to us is infinite and unceasing. At every moment of our existence, from our time as a golem in the womb to our final breath, an infinite number of divine thoughts are directed toward us, sustaining us, guiding us, and working all things together for our good. He never gets distracted. He never multitasks. When you pray, you have the undivided attention of the God who holds the universe together by the word of His power.
The final line, "When I awake, I am still with You," is a beautiful expression of the constant fellowship that is the Christian's birthright. Every morning is a fresh reminder of God's covenant faithfulness. We go to sleep under His watchful care, and we wake up to find Him still there, His precious thoughts still flowing toward us in an unending stream. This is a promise of His presence through life, and for the Christian, it is also a promise of His presence through death. When we close our eyes in death, we will open them in glory, and we will find ourselves, still and forever, with Him.
Conclusion: Made for a Purpose
The truths of this psalm are not abstract theological propositions. They have teeth. They have consequences. If we are fearfully and wonderfully made by a personal Creator, then every human life has inherent and inestimable value. This means that abortion is not just a political issue; it is a theological abomination. It is the creature shaking his fist at the Creator and saying, "This work of Your hands is inconvenient, and I will destroy it."
If God has written all of our days in His book before we have lived one of them, then our lives have a purpose and a narrative arc. We are not adrift in a meaningless cosmos. We are part of a grand story, authored by a good and sovereign God. This gives us courage in the face of suffering and humility in the face of success. It is all part of His plan.
And if His thoughts toward us are precious and outnumber the sand, then we are loved with a love that is beyond our wildest comprehension. This is the truth that sets us free. It frees us from the fear of man, from the tyranny of circumstances, and from the despair of meaninglessness. We are known, we are made, and we are loved by the God of all immensity.
The ultimate expression of this creative, sovereign, and intimate love is found not just in our first creation, but in our new creation. The same God who wove us in our mother's womb is the one who knits us into the body of His Son, Jesus Christ. The same God who saw our unformed substance is the one who saw us in our sin and brokenness and chose to make us new. The same God who wrote our days in His book is the one who wrote our names in the Lamb's Book of Life before the foundation of the world. Therefore, let your soul know it very well, and give thanks.