In Hebrew the word for heart is “Levav” (לֵבָב). It connotes the inner man, the character of the person.

Psalm 51 is my wife’s favorite of the 150 psalms from Scripture. It is of course one of David’s penitential psalms. In it he confesses. His sins with Bathsheba and his staged murder of her husband Uriah are front and center. In short, David does not hide from God. He owns his sin and goes to God with it. And God hears and forgives him. That’s the pattern of the believer and that’s the pattern of God. David does not attempt to justify his sin. He owns it. He confesses it to God. And God restores him. The temporal consequences of the sin often remain but the ultimate spiritual balm remains. David is saved.

For all his faults, David remained God’s man. David had a resume you’d not wish to compete against–a poet, a musician, a shepherd, the greatest king national Israel ever had, the son who prefigured the Christ to come, a warrior, a man of means. The list could go on.

What set David apart was his heart for God. Though a sinner, he was God’s man. His heart, his nature, his character—they were Godward. He longed to please God.

Did he fail as a father to Absalom? Yes, clearly. Did he have a “woman problem” at times? Again, yes. But did David repent? Again, yes. Psalm 51 is an obvious example of this character of genuine repentance, of turning away from sin and to God.

In this psalm, David writes that the Lord delights “in truth in the inward being” (v. 6a) and that the Lord teaches “wisdom in the secret heart” (v. 6b). That’s what is meant by Levav–the character, the affections, the true nature of the man, who the man really is at his core.

I’m about to walk the hills that I have walked for years now. I know where the roots are, where the rocks are, what timber is fallen, and where I’m likely to see deer foraging. I know when I’ll hear the creeks flow and when this evening’s sun will disappear behind the western ridge.

As intimately as I know all these things, the Lord knows more. He knows why these passions for his creation consume me. He knows where I’ll step before I extend my legs. He knows the taxonomy of the rocks, the temperature of the creek’s waters, and where those waters will end. He knows the pace of my walk, the trees that tower above me, and how long my shadow is upon the forest floor.

In sum, God knows my character. Indeed, he knows all things. And he has told me in his Word that he delights “in truth in the inward being.”

It is presumptuous to speak for others, but as for me, this breaks me. It reminds me that I’m not my own, that I’ve been bought with a price, that I will answer, and this changes me.