564_Deep love for God’s Word (Psalm 119:97-104)
Psalm 119:97-104 Oh how I love your law!
It is my meditation all the day.
98 Your commandment makes me wiser than my enemies,
for it is ever with me.
99 I have more understanding than all my teachers,
for your testimonies are my meditation.
100 I understand more than the aged,
for I keep your precepts.
101 I hold back my feet from every evil way,
in order to keep your word.
102 I do not turn aside from your rules,
for you have taught me.
103 How sweet are your words to my taste,
sweeter than honey to my mouth!
104 Through your precepts I get understanding;
therefore I hate every false way.
A young missionary once recounted how, while serving in a remote part of Asia, he met an elderly believer who owned only a few torn pages of the Gospel of John. That small fragment of Scripture had been passed down in her family for decades. When the missionary offered her a complete Bible in her own language, she clutched it to her chest with tears streaming down her face. “I have prayed all my life for this,” she whispered. “Now I can finally know more of Him.” For her, the Word of God was not merely a book—it was life itself, the voice of the One she loved most.
That deep affection for God’s Word is at the heart of Psalm 119:97–104. The psalmist cries, “Oh how I love your law! It is my meditation all the day.” His words are not formal or academic; they are a confession of deep, personal love. He doesn’t approach the Scriptures as a scholar might approach a textbook, but as a lover returns again and again to the voice of the beloved. The Word of God had become his constant meditation—something he turned over in his heart throughout the day, allowing it to shape his thoughts, decisions, and actions.
When the psalmist says he meditates on God’s law, he means more than reciting verses from memory. Meditation here is the deliberate act of thinking deeply about what God is saying—pondering its meaning, applying it to daily life, and allowing it to transform the heart. His goal is not mere knowledge but obedience. True love for God’s Word always leads to action. It moves us from the theoretical to the experiential, from knowing about God to walking with Him.
This love has profound effects. The psalmist first declares, “Your commandments make me wiser than my enemies, for it is ever with me.” He recognizes that wisdom from the Word gives him discernment in life’s conflicts and choices. God’s wisdom isn’t about outsmarting others—it’s about knowing how to live rightly before Him. While enemies may rely on cunning or strength, the one who abides in God’s Word gains a deeper kind of wisdom: the ability to choose what pleases God in every circumstance.
Next, he says, “I have more understanding than all my teachers, for your testimonies are my meditation.” This is not arrogance but testimony. The psalmist acknowledges that understanding God’s truth doesn’t depend merely on human instruction. One may have great teachers, but without personal meditation and obedience, knowledge remains secondhand. The one who walks daily with God through His Word often sees things that others—however learned—miss entirely. There’s a quiet wisdom that grows only in the soil of obedience.
Then he adds, “I understand more than the aged, for I keep your precepts.” Experience can teach us much, but obedience teaches us more. The psalmist isn’t dismissing the value of age or experience; he’s saying that a heart aligned with God’s Word can gain more spiritual insight than decades of worldly experience can provide. The wisdom that comes from obedience is not bound by time. It’s born out of daily surrender and intimate fellowship with God.
But this love for the Word is not just intellectual—it is moral and practical. “I hold back my feet from every evil way, in order to keep your word,” he writes. The psalmist knows that holiness and understanding go hand in hand. You cannot grasp the beauty of God’s truth while walking in rebellion against it. Obedience clears the fog of sin and sharpens spiritual vision. Every step away from sin is a step closer to the light of divine understanding. To truly love the Word, one must also hate what is contrary to it.
He continues, “I do not turn aside from your rules, for you have taught me.” Notice how personal this is. The psalmist doesn’t view God’s instruction as abstract or distant. He feels personally taught by God Himself. This is what makes Scripture so precious—it is not merely information about God; it is God speaking to us. Every time we open the Bible, the Creator of the universe is addressing us directly, guiding, correcting, and comforting us. When that truth grips our hearts, how could we not love His Word?
Then the psalmist bursts out, “How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!” Honey was the sweetest natural substance known in his time. Yet even that could not compare with the delight he found in God’s Word. He tasted the sweetness of divine truth because he had made it his daily meditation. The Word had nourished his soul, comforted him in sorrow, and given him joy in obedience. It wasn’t a duty to him—it was his delight.
Think of this: the psalmist probably had access only to the first five books of Moses and perhaps a few other writings. Yet with such limited revelation, his heart overflowed with joy and love. Today we have the entire Bible—the full revelation of God in Jesus Christ, the riches of grace, the promises of eternal life—and yet many of us treat it casually. We scroll through our phones more than we search the Scriptures. We complain about not hearing God’s voice, though His Word lies unopened beside us. How much we lose when we neglect this treasure!
Finally, the psalmist concludes, “Through your precepts I get understanding; therefore I hate every false way.” Love for God’s Word naturally produces hatred for sin and falsehood. When the light of truth fills the heart, the shadows of deception lose their appeal. The psalmist doesn’t simply avoid sin out of fear—he hates it because it offends the God he loves. His affection for the Word has purified his desires and reshaped his moral compass.
There’s an important lesson here. If we ever find the Bible dull, dry, or difficult to engage with, the problem is not with the Word but with our hearts. When our love for God grows cold, His Word feels distant. But when we draw near to Him in humility and repentance, His Word comes alive again. It’s like rekindling an old friendship—the conversation becomes natural and joyous once more. That’s why the psalmist begins not with duty but with love: “Oh how I love your law!” Love is the key that unlocks delight in Scripture.
The great preacher Charles Spurgeon once said, “A Bible that is falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.” There’s truth in that. Those who walk daily in the Word of God find stability and strength that the world cannot offer. They may face trials, but their roots go deep into the soil of God’s promises. Their love for Scripture sustains them when feelings waver or circumstances shift.
We might ask ourselves: Do we love God’s Word this way? Or do we merely respect it from a distance? Love is not known by emotion but by attention and obedience. To love the Word is to give it time, thought, and trust. It means letting its truths correct us, its promises encourage us, and its commands guide us. It means not merely reading but allowing ourselves to be read—to let the Word search and shape us.
The psalmist’s example invites us to a richer relationship with Scripture. Not a hurried reading out of obligation, but a deep, joyful meditation that transforms our inner life. Start small: take a single verse, think about it through the day, and ask, “What is God saying to me here? How can I obey this?” You’ll begin to see how the Word connects with every part of life—your relationships, your choices, your work, your thought life. The more you meditate, the more you’ll discover its sweetness.
And as you do, you’ll also find that love for God’s Word draws you closer to God Himself. You can’t separate the two. To love His Word is to love His voice; to obey His precepts is to walk in His presence. The more we delight in Scripture, the more we delight in the Lord who gave it. And that delight brings freedom, wisdom, and joy.
Perhaps the woman in the story who wept over her new Bible had something the modern world often forgets: a sense of awe. She understood that in her hands was not just ink and paper, but the living voice of God—the same voice that spoke light into existence, the same voice that calls sinners to grace, the same voice that says, “You are mine.” That awareness filled her with love and reverence.
May we rediscover that same love. May our hearts echo the psalmist’s cry, “Oh how I love your law!” Let us pray that the Word of God would not be a book we occasionally open, but a living truth we continually cherish. And as we meditate on it, may it make us wiser than our enemies, purer in our walk, and sweeter in our spirit—until we, too, can say from the depths of our heart that the Word of God is our delight, our guide, and our greatest joy.