Part 5 of 8 in The Year God Redefined Contentment series

If you're just joining me, I encourage you to begin with the previous posts in this series, as each one builds upon the last.
In Part 1, God began redefining what contentment truly means.
In Part 2 exposed the orphan lie that fear had quietly built throughout my life.
In Part 3 revealed the illusion of control and how surrender became the pathway to peace.
I nPart 4 showed me that God's mercy transforms our hearts in ways judgment alone never can. Looking back over these past several months, I can now see that every lesson has been leading to one beautiful destination: the Father's heart.

"Lord, You have searched me and known me."
— Psalm 139:1 (ESV)

I Thought God Was Teaching Me About Contentment

When the Lord gave me my word for this year, I honestly thought I knew what He was asking of me.

Contentment.

If you've been following this series, you've probably noticed something. I thought God was teaching me about contentment. Instead, He kept leading me back to His heart. Through fear, surrender, trust, and mercy, He was answering questions I didn't even realize I had been asking for most of my life.

Then something happened that changed everything.

It didn't happen during a sermon.

It didn't happen at a conference.

It happened while reading the book Known & Loved by Glenna Marshall (I highly recommend buying the actual book, so you can highlight, circle and mark up the pages; it's truly life changing!)

My dear friend Sarah had read the book with her women's small group and loved it so much that she suggested we read it together and record a podcast series around it. I happily agreed, assuming I would simply gain a deeper understanding of one of my favorite Psalms.

I had no idea God was about to introduce me to Himself in a way I had never experienced before.

I thought God was teaching me a lesson.
Instead, He was introducing me to Himself.

I Thought Psalm 139 Was About Creation

For most of my life, Psalm 139 was one of my favorite chapters in all of Scripture.

Like so many Christians, I love the verses about being "fearfully and wonderfully made." They have reminded me that my life wasn't an accident—that God intentionally created me, formed me, and gave me purpose. I believe every word. I have read the chapter countless times throughout my life, and I genuinely treasure it.

However, somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, I had reduced one of the most intimate chapters in all of Scripture to a passage about God's craftsmanship rather than God's affection.

This year, through Glenna Marshall's beautiful verse-by-verse breakdown, Holy Spirit gently lifted a veil from my eyes.

Suddenly, I wasn't simply admiring what God had created.

I was encountering the heart of the One who created me.

I thought Psalm 139 was about
how wonderfully I was made.

This year, I discovered it was about
how wonderfully I am loved.

That realization completely changed the way I read the chapter.

The opening words no longer felt like a theological statement.

They felt deeply personal.

"Lord, You have searched me and known me."

Not merely observed me.

Known me.

Completely.

Fully.

Intimately.

He knows every strength, every weakness, every question, every victory, every disappointment, every hidden fear, every moment of joy, every chapter of my story.

And somehow...

He has never stopped loving me.

The God I Thought I Knew

Before this year, if someone had asked me, "How do you think God feels about you?" I would have confidently answered, "He loves me."

And I believed that.

But if I'm honest, my understanding of His love was often filtered through the lens of my own performance. Somewhere deep inside, I quietly believed my mistakes created distance between us. I assumed my failures somehow lessened my ability to experience His presence. I didn't think God stopped loving me, but I often lived as though His affection rose and fell with how well I was following Him.

This year, the Father gently dismantled that belief.

For years, I assumed my failures caused God to pull away from me. But this year, I began seeing something I had completely missed.

Nothing about my life has ever taken Him by surprise.

Before I took my very first breath, He knew every strength, every weakness, every failure, every victory, every question, and every surrender that would ever become part of my story.

He wasn't reacting to my life as it unfolded.

Through Jesus, He had already written redemption into my story before I ever needed it.

That realization didn't make me want to sin more.

It made me love Him more.

I began realizing that God's love isn't merely one of His attributes.

Love is His very nature.

"Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love." (1 John 4:8)

If God is love, then His love toward me has never been dependent upon my ability to perform. His holiness has never changed. His justice has never changed. His truth has never changed.

And neither has His love.

The Father's love didn't increase.

My ability to receive it did.

For the first time in my life, I wasn't simply learning that God loved me.

I was experiencing His love.

Hemmed In by Love, Not Restriction

One of the verses that completely transformed the way I see God is Psalm 139:5.

"You have encircled me; You have placed Your hand on me." (CSB)

Other translations say:

"You hem me in behind and before, and You lay Your hand upon me." (ESV)

I'll be honest. Before this year, I never paid much attention to that verse.

In fact, if someone had asked me what it meant to be "hemmed in," I probably would have thought about restriction.

Limits.

Rules.

Boundaries.

After all, our culture constantly tells us that true freedom is found in doing whatever we want, whenever we want, however we want.

From that perspective, being "hemmed in" almost sounds suffocating.

But Glenna Marshall beautifully pointed out something that completely shifted my perspective.

God doesn't hem us in to restrict us.

He hems us in to protect us.

Suddenly, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Isn't that exactly what a loving father does?

He establishes boundaries not because he wants to diminish his child's freedom, but because he understands dangers the child cannot yet see.

He protects.

He guides.

He lovingly says, "Not because I don't love you... but because I do."

That realization immediately took me back to the Garden of Eden.

The enemy convinced Adam and Eve that God's boundaries were restrictive.

That He was withholding something good from them.

That true freedom existed outside of God's design.

But the exact opposite was true.

God's boundaries were never about control.

They were always about relationship.

His commands weren't given to keep them from life.

They were given to keep them close to the Giver of life.

As I reflected on my own life, I realized how often I had viewed God's commands through the same distorted lens.

I knew He loved me.

But somewhere along the way, I had subtly begun believing that His ways were primarily about keeping me in line rather than keeping me close.

How gently the Father corrected me.

The more I've come to know His heart, the more I've realized that every boundary He establishes is an expression of His love.

Every command is an invitation into deeper intimacy.

Every act of obedience draws me closer to the One who knows me better than I know myself.

The world calls boundaries restrictive.

Love calls boundaries protection.

Being hemmed in is no longer a picture of confinement.

It's become one of the most beautiful pictures of security I know.

His hand isn't upon me to restrain me.

His hand is upon me because He refuses to let go.

Psalm 139 Answered Every Question I'd Been Asking

As I continued praying through Psalm 139, something remarkable began happening.

Without even realizing it, God had been answering every major lesson He'd been teaching me this year through one chapter of Scripture.

The more I read it, the more I realized Psalm 139 wasn't simply describing God's omniscience or His omnipresence.

It was revealing the Father's heart.

Every fear...

Every question...

Every insecurity...

Every lesson...

found an answer there.

"Am I an Orphan?"

For much of my life, fear convinced me that I was alone.

It whispered that people leave.

That people die.

That eventually I would be abandoned.

But listen to David's words:

"Where can I go to escape your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. If I live at the eastern horizon or settle at the western limits, even there your hand will lead me; your right hand will hold on to me." (Psalm 139:7–10)

Those verses absolutely wrecked me.

Not because they promised life would never hurt.

But because they promised I would never face it alone.

The orphan lie lost its power the moment I realized there has never been a single place in my life where the Father's presence has been absent.

His right hand has always been holding me.

"Should I Be Afraid?"

Fear had quietly shaped so much of my life.

Fear of loss.

Fear of failure.

Fear of the unknown.

Fear of something happening to the people I love.

Then I read:

"If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me, and the light around me will be night'—even the darkness is not dark to You. The night shines like the day; darkness and light are alike to You." (Psalm 139:11–12)

What darkness could possibly intimidate the God who is Light Himself?

The answer...

None.

Every anxious thought that tries to convince me I'm alone, vulnerable, or forgotten is confronted by the truth of who God is.

Now, whenever fear begins whispering its familiar lies, my prayer has become beautifully simple:

Fear, Go. Holy Spirit, Come.

Because wherever His light is present...

Fear loses its influence.

"Who's Really in Control?"

Perhaps one of the most freeing realizations this year has been recognizing that God alone is the Author and Sustainer of life.

He formed me in my mother's womb.

He numbered my days before one of them came to be.

Nothing catches Him by surprise.

Not illness.

Not loss.

Not disappointment.

Not unanswered prayers.

Not even death itself.

The illusion of control slowly began giving way to the peace of surrender.

I no longer have to carry tomorrow.

I simply trust the One who is already there.

"Can God Still Love Me After All My Failures?"

Then I came to verses 3 and 4.

"You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, You know it altogether."

Pause and think about that.

Before I ever speak...

He already knows.

Before I ever fail...

He already knows.

Before I ever question...

He already knows.

And knowing all of that...

He still chose me.

He still sent Jesus.

He still pursued me.

He still calls me His daughter.

For years, I assumed God's love somehow increased when I obeyed Him well.

Psalm 139 gently revealed something entirely different.

His love has never fluctuated.

My awareness of His love has.

Because Jesus willingly went to the cross, mercy was never God's backup plan. It was always part of His redemptive story.

God wasn't changing His heart toward me.

He was changing my heart's ability to receive His love.

God Used My Marriage to Reveal the Father's Heart

One of the most unexpected gifts God has given me throughout this season has been helping me see His heart through my marriage.

Tyler isn't perfect, and he would be the first to tell you that. Like every marriage, we've walked through our own seasons of refining, misunderstanding, healing, and growth. Yet, as I've reflected on everything God has been teaching me this year, I've realized He has quietly been using my husband's faithful love, patience, and compassion to help me better understand His own.

The more Tyler has loved me through my imperfections, the more I've found myself asking, "If imperfect human love can be this patient... how much greater is the love of my Heavenly Father?"

If Tyler can extend grace to me when I fail...

How much more does my Father?

If Tyler can remain committed through difficult seasons...

How much more faithful is the One who promised to never leave nor forsake me?

God has gently used my marriage to shift my eyes upward. What began as gratitude for my husband slowly became awe for the Father who designed marriage to reflect His covenant love.

Tyler didn't replace my need for God.

He pointed me back to Him.

And for that, I will always be grateful.

Knowing About God's Love vs. Experiencing God's Love

As I reached the end of Known & Loved, another passage of Scripture came alive in a way it never had before.

Paul prays in Ephesians 3:

"...that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the length and width, height and depth of God's love, and to know Christ's love that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God." (Ephesians 3:17–19)

For years, I thought I understood those verses.

Now I realize Paul wasn't praying that believers would simply learn more information about God's love.

He was praying they would experience it.

There is a kind of knowing that goes beyond knowledge.

You can know your spouse loves you because they tell you.

But there is something altogether different about experiencing that love through years of faithfulness.

The same is true with our Heavenly Father.

For years, I knew God loved me.

This year...

I've begun experiencing His love.

The more I encounter His heart through His Word, the more I find myself resting instead of striving. Trusting instead of controlling. Receiving instead of performing.

Because love changes everything.

I have been read Psalm 139 for years.

This year, Psalm 139 began reading me.

I no longer approach Scripture looking only for what God wants me to do.

I open His Word longing to discover more of Who He is.

And every page seems to whisper the same beautiful truth.

"I've loved you all along."

It Was Always a Love Story

As I reflect on everything God has been teaching me this year, I can't help but smile (and well up with tears, of course! ha ha!)

When He first gave me the word Contentment, I assumed He was inviting me to become more content with my circumstances.

I had no idea He was inviting me to know His heart.

Contentment became the doorway.

Fear led me to surrender.

Surrender led me to mercy.

Mercy led me to Psalm 139.

Psalm 139 opened my eyes to the Father's heart.

And His heart has been teaching me how deeply I am loved.

Suddenly, I can see why the vision God gave me of the quilt has become so precious. It was never primarily about the quilt. It was always about the thread. The beautiful red thread of His love woven faithfully through every single chapter of my story.

Every joyful season.

Every heartbreak.

Every betrayal.

Every poor decision.

Every question.

Every wilderness.

Every moment of healing.

Every answered prayer.

Every unanswered prayer.

His love was there.

Not once did He loosen His grip.

Not once did He abandon me.

Not once did He stop pursuing my heart.

He was never asking me to become worthy of His love.

He was patiently showing me that I had always been deeply loved.

Today, when I read Psalm 139, I no longer see a chapter primarily about me.

I see a chapter about Him.

A Father who searched me before I ever searched for Him.

A Father who knew me before I knew myself.

A Father who pursued me long before I ever thought to pursue Him.

A Father whose hand has never left me.

A Father whose steadfast love has been the truest thread running through every chapter of my life.

The Father's love didn't increase.

My ability to receive it did.

And perhaps... that's what this entire year has really been about. I thought God was teaching me contentment. Instead... He was teaching me how deeply He loves me.

Reflection

As you reflect on your own journey, I want to gently ask you a few questions.

• Have you been reading Scripture primarily to learn more about God... or to know Him more deeply?
• When you think about how God feels toward you, what comes to mind first?
  Performance? Disappointment? Distance?Or do you picture the loving Father who has been pursuing you since before you took your very first breath?

Perhaps, like me, you've always believed God loves you. But perhaps He's inviting you into something even deeper. Not merely knowing about His love... But experiencing it.

Spend a few quiet moments reading Psalm 139 this week.

Ask Holy Spirit to reveal not simply what the chapter says about you...

Ask Him to reveal what it says about the Father's heart.

Prayer

Father,

Thank You for never giving up on me.

Thank You for pursuing my heart long before I ever learned how to pursue Yours.

Thank You that Your love has never depended upon my performance, my perfection, or my ability to earn it.

Thank You for showing me, through Your Word, that You have always known me completely and loved me fully.

Continue opening my eyes to the beauty of Your heart. Teach me to receive Your love more deeply each day, allowing it to transform the way I see myself, the way I love others, and the way I walk with You.

Root me so deeply in Your love that fear loses its grip, striving gives way to peace, and contentment naturally grows because my heart has found its home in You.

In Jesus' name,

Amen.

 

With love,