Where can I go to hide from your spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to the heavens, you are there; if I take my rest in the netherworld, you are also there.
You created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am wonderfully made; awesome are your works, as I know very well.
How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who bears good news and proclaims glad tidings, announcing salvation and saying to Zion, “Your God is king.”