The Wonderful Word
Do you ever feel like you should like something, but you just can’t seem to? Let’s be honest. Sometimes opening your Bible feels like a duty you’re supposed to love but don’t. You know it’s good but the wonder’s gone. The joy’s faded.
Psalm 119:129-36 is a cry to get that wonder back. It’s not a checklist of rules or a stern lecture. It’s a window into a heart completely captured by the beauty of God’s Word. The psalmist isn’t reading Scripture to avoid guilt. He’s drinking it in because he’s in awe. He doesn’t see the Bible as a burden. He sees it as a treasure.
If the Word feels distant or dull this passage calls you to return. Rediscover the awe.
Wonder fuels obedience. (129)
Verse 129 says “Your testimonies are wonderful; therefore my soul keeps them.” Picture the last time something left you speechless. Maybe it was standing on a mountain watching the sunrise paint the sky in colors you can’t describe. Maybe it’s holding a newbord baby for the first time. That’s the pulse of this verse. The psalmist declares God’s testimonies are wonderful.
That word wonderful[1] isn’t casual, like “Oh, that’s wonderful…” In Hebrew it’s used for God’s miracles like in Exodus 15:11 where the Israelites sang “Who is like you, O LORD, among the gods? Who is like you, majestic in holiness, awesome in glorious deeds, doing wonders?” It’s supernatural. It’s otherworldly. The psalmist is confessing Scripture’s glory. He’s overwhelmed with wonder.
This awe drives his obedience. “Therefore my soul keeps them.” The more he sees the Word’s beauty the more his heart longs to live it. He’s not obeying out of fear or duty. He’s captured by wonder. Think of a kid ripping open a gift they’ve dreamed about for months. He then plays with that gift day in and day out. That’s the psalmist with God’s Word. He’s not checking a box. He’s all in. It reminds me of a video that’s been around for a while of some Chinese Christians getting a Bible for the first time.
Think about God’s Word. It’s not just helpful. It’s holy. It carries God’s character. It doesn’t just tell you what to do. It reveals who God is. That’s what moves the heart. Not guilt. Not pressure. Wonder. A soul stunned by Scripture doesn’t argue with it. It treasures it.
The structure of Psalm 119 shows this too. It’s beautifully written. It’s a masterpiece. Each stanza follows the Hebrew alphabet with every line in this section starting with the letter pe. That’s not random. It’s art. It’s worship. In ancient Israel such careful design reflected the order and beauty of God’s Word. The psalmist’s delight isn’t just in what he says but he shows it in how he says it. His words mirror the Word’s beauty.
Maybe today you need to ask God to show you the wonder of Hid Word again. Because when you see it and behold it for what it really is, you won’t walk away. You’ll fall on your knees and echo verse 129. “Your testimonies are wonderful; therefore my soul keeps them.”
God’s Word gives light to those humble enough to receive it. (130–132)
Verse 130 says, “The unfolding of your words gives light; it imparts understanding to the simple.” That word “unfolding” means “opening.”[2] It’s the idea of something being laid bare, like the rolling open of a scroll, the drawing back of a curtain, or the opening of a door. In the ancient world, scrolls had to be unrolled carefully to reveal the text. You couldn’t skim it or flip through it like a book. You had to open it slowly, intentionally, reverently. That’s how God’s Word is meant to be approached. Not with haste, but with hunger. With intentionality.
And he says it gives light.[3] That word is deeply significant in Hebrew Scripture. Light means guidance. It means truth. It means the presence of God. Think about it: In a world without electricity, where night meant real danger, light wasn’t just symbolic. It was survival. To say God’s Word gives light is to say it makes the difference between stumbling and standing. Between confusion and clarity.
And the psalmist says that light comes to “the simple.” That’s not an insult. It means teachable, like a kid that has so much to learn. Those who know they don’t have all the answers are the ones most ready to receive God’s truth. Intellectual humility must precede knowledge of God’s Word and obedience to God’s Word.
Then in verse 131 he says, “I open my mouth and pant, because I long for your commandments.” That’s not casual Bible reading. That’s desperation. He’s not multitasking his devotions. He’s gasping. Like a deer in a desert (Ps 42:1). He’s begging God to speak because without it he can’t go on.
Verse 132 then gets personal. “Turn to me and be gracious to me, as is your way with those who love your name.” This is a cry for intimacy now, not just insight. It’s like when you see your loved one from across the room and you lock eyes, and it gives you butterflies from deep within. The psalmist wants God’s face turned toward him.
This cry of the psalmist echoed the Aaronic Blessing in Numbers 6:24-26. “The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.” God’s shining face meant His favor, His attention, His love. Unlike the gods of neighboring nations who needed rituals to notice you (like Elijah mocked in 1 Kings 18:27-28), Israel’s God was attentive. His face shining brought shalom,[4] not just calm peace but wholeness, completeness. For us in the New Covenant this is even deeper. God’s love secures us against sin and death (Romans 8:26-38 and 1 Corinthians 15:56-57). There’s no greater peace than the peace we have with God through the sacrifice of Jesus. But that sin that we’re saved from still pulls. That’s why we need the Word.
The pull of sin is strong, but God’s Word is stronger. (133–134)
When the psalmist cries out in verse 133, “Keep steady my steps according to your promise, and let no iniquity get dominion over me,” he’s making a desperate, deliberate prayer. The Hebrew word translated “dominion” carries the idea of ruling power.[5] He’s not asking God to keep him from slipping up now and then. He’s pleading not to be ruled. He knows sin isn’t content to visit. It wants to stay. It wants the throne. And he doesn’t want to hand it over. He wants to be ruled by God’s Word, not by his own impulses.
We tend to have pet sins. We picture it like a cute little cat. But that’s nothing like what sin is. It is like a roaring lion. And it is looking for someone to devour (1 Pet 5:8). Nobody in their right mind would have a lion as a house pet. Why? Because it would destroy them. Yet that is exactly how we live our lives when we don’t live like the psalmist is praying here: “let no iniquity get dominion over me.”
But it’s not just inward sin that threatens him. It’s outward pressure too. Verse 134 says “Redeem me from man’s oppression, that I may keep your precepts.” The verb redeem[6] here means to ransom or deliver, often by paying a price to free someone from captivity or oppression. In Scripture redemption describes God’s mighty acts of liberation, like in Deuteronomy 7:8: “it is because the Lord loves you and is keeping the oath that he swore to your fathers, that the Lord has brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the house of slavery, from the hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt.” The psalmist is crying for God to rescue him from human oppression, maybe mockery or threats, so he can obey. This plea is rooted in God’s covenant faithfulness, His promise to deliver His people. He’s saying God free me from this burden because if you don’t I can’t walk in your ways.
And notice the motive. He’s not asking for freedom so he can finally be comfortable. He’s asking for freedom so he can be faithful. His greatest desire isn’t relief. It’s righteousness. He doesn’t just want to get out of the fire. He wants to walk upright in the middle of it.
Intimacy with God always leads to brokenness over sin. (135–136)
Verse 135 says “Make your face shine upon your servant, and teach me your statutes.” This hits on the Aaronic Blessing again, a cry for God’s presence and favor. The psalmist wants nearness, not distance. He’s after relationship with God.
And that intimacy leads, not to peace here, but to heartbreak. “My eyes shed streams of tears, because people do not keep your law” (136). These aren’t quiet tears. The Hebrew here paints a picture of flooding. Of a river.[7] Have you ever cried rivers of tears? The psalmist isn’t weeping for himself. He’s heartbroken because people reject God’s Word. God’s Word isn’t just rules. It is life. It is the path to covenant blessing. To reject God’s Word is to reject God. The psalmist’s grief isn’t pride, thinking he knows better than all those other people who don’t believe God’s Word. No, his grief is out of love. He aches because people are running from the One who saves. Who can save them.
Jesus did the same thing. In Luke 19:41-42 He wept over Jerusalem. “And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace!”” He’s weeping not for the city’s chaos and corruption, but because they missed Him, the Word made flesh. His tears weren’t for Himself. They were for a people walking in darkness while the light was right there. And Jesus didn’t just weep. He died to redeem them. He carried their sin to the cross. He carries yours too.
If you’ve ever wondered how Jesus feels about sin, look at His tears. They aren’t for Himself. They’re for a lost city. A wandering people. A world that doesn’t realize it’s walking in darkness while the light of the world is right in front of them. They’re for you who are still wandering in your sin, seeking your sin or yourself over the Savior.
And when you come to Him, with your tears, with your wandering, with your weariness, with your faith, He won’t turn away. He will turn to you. He will shine His face on you. And He will give you peace.
Where’s your heart right now? Are you numb to the world’s rejection of God? Or does His Word stir you to grieve like He does? Draw near to Jesus today. Weep where He weeps. And trust His tears weren’t the end. His cross was. His empty tomb still speaks. Come to the One who weeps for you, died for you, and welcomes you into His peace.
[1] https://biblehub.com/hebrew/6382.htm
[2] https://biblehub.com/hebrew/6608.htm
[3] https://biblehub.com/hebrew/215.htm
[4] https://biblehub.com/hebrew/7965.htm
[5] https://biblehub.com/hebrew/7980.htm
