Psalm 139 (paraphrased)

Psalm 139: For anyone living with a two-year-old.
Of Papa.  A psalm.

 O LORD, you have given me a two-year-old who knows everything I do.

He knows when I sit and when I rise;
He perceives my thoughts of escape from afar.
He discerns my going out and my lying down;
Nothing eludes his scrutiny.
He chooses the topic of conversation and tells me when my response is incorrect.
He refuses me a chair at the dinner table.
He lays his oily hand upon my clean shirt.
Such an existence overwhelms me and pushes me to the brink of sanity.

Where can I go from his constant chatter?  Where can I flee from his presence?

If I sit at the computer, he is there.
If I take a shower, suddenly he is there.
If I wake from a nap, I find him staring at me.
If I work in the garage, he finds me;
Even there I hear, “Hi, Papa.  What do-ning, Papa?”
If I say, “Surely bedtime will bring quiet
and the night will blanket the house in silence,”
even slumber will not muffle his cries;
the night will amplify his voice while the world lies still with sleep.

 But you, O LORD, created this two-year-old;

You knit him together in my daughter’s womb.

I praise you because he is fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

His frame was not hidden from you when he was made in the secret place.

When he was woven together in the depths of the earth,
Your eyes saw his unformed body.
All the days ordained for him, even the days in the NICU,
were written in your book before one of them came to be.

 How precious are your thoughts for this two-year-old, O God!

How vast the sum of them!
Were this Papa to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand.

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