Only God Knows the Full Story – Because He’s Written It

I remember the first time I felt like someone truly knew me and got me. It was in college, before my husband and I had started dating, and he showed up at a theatre production of Xanadu that I was performing in (and no, I was not one of the extras who got to skate on stage—I was not blessed with those coordination skills). I remember looking out into the audience and thinking, Wow, he really likes me enough to sit through this show for me. He gets me. I didn’t have to change who I was for him like I had for other guys I had previously dated. He accepted me for who I was—ridiculous stage makeup and all.

Fast forward years later on our wedding day, and the same thoughts run through my mind as I’m walking down a very long aisle (and trying not to fall in my way-too-high-for-me heels). This man gets me. He accepts me. He loves me. He’s agreeing to love me in sickness and in health—muffin tops and future wrinkles and all.

I am so loved by him.

With almost a decade into marriage, the thoughts have only solidified with time. Over the years, we’ve learned even more about each other. We can finish each other’s sentences. We complement each other; where my weaknesses are, he’s got me. And I got his back on where his weaknesses are. We know each other—inside and out.  

(Now, for you, it may not be a husband that you feel like fully understands you. Maybe it’s a best friend, sister, your mom, or the neighbor—I don’t know. But if I had to guess, you’ve got someone. Someone who knows your life, your story, your past, your flaws—the whole package—and they love you. All of you.)

However, given that I know my husband and he knows me, there are still things he doesn’t know.

He wasn’t present in my childhood or teen years, and although he’s heard some stories, he doesn’t know every little moment in my life that has shaped me into the woman I am today. He doesn’t know every single thought that enters my head throughout the day. Sure, I tell him the noteworthy things and we talk about our days, but he doesn’t get the full replay. He doesn’t know every single sin I’ve ever committed. Of course, he knows my past, and we confess things to each other (and to God) on a regular basis, but he doesn’t have the full laundry list of it all. (And yet, he still knows I’m a sinner and loves me anyway.)

Only God really knows it all.

He’s got the full story because, well, He’s written it.

Really, you should read the entire Psalm 139 as my backup for this, but I’ll point you to verse 1: “You have searched me, LORD, and you know me.” God knows knows me. It’s a whole other level of intimacy that even my dear husband does not have with me. He doesn’t just accept my wrinkles, but He can count them and knows every pore on my face. He was present for every moment of my life, and knew me before I was in my mother’s womb (Jer. 1:5, Ps. 139:13). He knows what I’m thinking, and He knows what I’m about to say before I even say it (Ps. 139:2, 4).

His love for me is far greater than I can even imagine. His knowledge of me is something my husband will still never attain, even if we were to be married for sixty years. God alone is the only one who knows my every move, my every thought, what makes me tick, what makes me, well, me.

When I think about how much my husband knows me and accepts me for who I am, I’m truly amazed by him.

But when I think about how much the God of the universe knows me and accepts me for my shortcomings (enough to die for them), let’s just say, I’m. All His. I’m in absolute awe of that kind of love—that kind of knowledge and intimacy.

And isn’t that what He wants with us? For us to know Him and to have a relationship with Him. I believe when He made us in His image, that was part of what He ingrained in us: the desire to be known and to know Him. That’s what I want. To know God and walk in the garden with Him as He tells me how many cells are in my body or the number of hairs on my head.

He’s who I’m after.

And I’ll spend the rest of my life chasing after Him.

This post also appeared on my Substack.