Psalm 139:5 says, “You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.” For many years, I never once thought of those words as negative. To me, the image of God hemming me in felt comforting — safe, loving, protective. Like being wrapped in a warm quilt on a cold prairie evening, or standing inside a sturdy shelter while the wind howls outside.
Then one day, I heard someone describe the verse differently. To them, “hemmed in” sounded restrictive. Confining. Claustrophobic even. They imagined walls closing in rather than loving arms surrounding them.
It surprised me how the very same verse could evoke such different emotions.
Maybe that is because our understanding of God’s presence is often shaped by our experiences. Some people hear “hemmed in” and think of limitations, rules, or obstacles. Others hear it and think of safety, guidance, and care. Both reactions are deeply human.
The truth is, there are seasons when we appreciate boundaries and seasons when we resist them.
As children, we rarely understand why loving adults place limits around us. “Don’t run into the street.” “Wear your helmet.” “Be home before dark.” At the time, those rules can feel frustrating. Yet later we recognize they were never about restriction for restriction’s sake — they were about love.
Perhaps Psalm 139 speaks of that kind of love.
Not a prison.
A presence.
The psalmist describes a God who is always near — behind us in the places we have already been, before us in the uncertainty ahead, and gently resting a hand upon us in the present moment. This is not the language of abandonment. It is the language of accompaniment.
There are days when life itself hems us in: illness, grief, difficult decisions, responsibilities we did not ask for. In those moments, we may wonder if God’s nearness feels more like pressure than peace. Yet even there, Psalm 139 reminds us that we are not trapped alone. God is already present within the places we fear.
And perhaps that is the real invitation of the verse: to trust that even when we cannot see the way forward, we are still held.
Not cornered.
Held.
Sometimes God hems us in to protect us from dangers we cannot yet see.
Sometimes God hems us in so we finally become still enough to listen.
Sometimes God hems us in simply because love refuses to let us go wandering alone.
The older I get, the more comforting this verse becomes. In a world that often feels uncertain and unsteady, the thought of God surrounding me behind and before no longer sounds restrictive at all.
It sounds like grace.
St. Paul’s Weekly Update
Sunday, May 24th – Tanis at Griswold/Oak Lake – Zoom Service at St. Paul’s 11:00am
Wednesday, May 27th – 7:00pm Church Council
May 28-31st – Myself and Marilyn Warkentin will represent St Paul’s at the Prairie to Pine Regional Annual Meeting held in Selkirk, Manitoba.
May 31st – In Person Worship with Joyce Marsh
June 1-16th – I’m (Tanis) on Holidays
