Psalms 145:9

Psalm 145 is a song of praise written by David, the famous king of Israel. In this verse, David makes a sweeping, universal claim: God's goodness is not reserved for a special group — it extends to everyone, and his compassion covers everything he has ever made. In the ancient world, gods were typically thought to favor certain nations or peoples while ignoring or punishing the rest, so this was a remarkable declaration. The Hebrew word translated 'compassion' here is related to the word for 'womb,' suggesting a deep, nurturing, almost maternal love that God holds toward all of creation — not just the righteous or the faithful.

Lord, your compassion is wider than I usually let myself believe. I keep drawing lines around who deserves kindness, and you keep erasing them. Help me stop shrinking the circle. Give me eyes to see the people around me the way you see them — every one of them made by your hands, held by your love. Amen.

That person who cut you off in traffic this morning. The neighbor whose politics make you clench your jaw. The stranger on the news who did something you can barely look at. According to this verse, God has compassion on them too. That is not comfortable theology. David isn't saying God approves of everything people do; he's saying God's compassion covers all he has made. And 'all he has made' is a phrase with no asterisks — it includes every human being who has ever drawn breath, regardless of whether they're drawing it particularly well. Here's the harder edge: if God's compassion really extends to everyone, what does that demand of you? It's easy to receive God's goodness for yourself. It's much harder to let his expansive love reshape the way you see the people you'd rather write off. You don't have to pretend cruelty is fine or injustice is acceptable. But you might sit with this question today: Is there someone I've quietly placed outside the circle of people who deserve compassion? God, apparently, hasn't placed them there.