Oh Lord, our Lord how majestic is Your name in all the earth! There is no place where Your glory does not echo. From the highest mountain to the darkest ocean trench, from galaxies unseen to the hidden corners of my heart You reign. You have set Your glory above the heavens (Psalm 8:1). Not just above human comprehension above everything.
You speak, and it becomes. You breathe, and the skies form. The sun rises at Your whisper, and the stars bow to Your voice. And yet You are not distant. You are not detached. You are near to the lowly and attentive to the broken.
Out of the mouths of infants and children those who have no strength, no wisdom, no status You have ordained praise (Psalm 8:2). Because You are not glorified by might, but by weakness surrendered. You silence the accuser with the worship of the weak. You shame the proud with the hallelujahs of the helpless.
I wonder, O Lord. I wonder as I behold the work of Your hands the moon, which reflects the sun’s light in quiet majesty, the stars, hung like lanterns in the night, moving in rhythms only You understand. Who am I to be known by You? Who are we, that You even care?
“What is man, that You are mindful of him, and the son of man, that You care for him?” (Psalm 8:4)
We are dust. We are here for a breath, and then we vanish (Psalm 103:14–16). And yet You, eternal and unchanging, have turned Your face toward us. You stooped down in mercy. You reached into our chaos. You entered the human story.
Jesus, Son of God You left the throne of heaven to wear our skin and feel our sorrow. You were made for a little while lower than the angels (Hebrews 2:9), not because You were weak, but because You chose to bear our weakness. You walked dusty roads. You wept at gravesides. You sat with sinners. You touched the unclean. You bore the full weight of sin my sin on a Roman cross.
You drank the cup of wrath until there was none left. You were crushed for our iniquities (Isaiah 53:5). You cried, “It is finished,” and bowed Your head to death (John 19:30). You entered the tomb to tear it apart from the inside.
And now You live. Death could not hold You. The grave lost its grip. You are risen, exalted, and crowned with glory and honor (Hebrews 2:9). You sit at the right hand of Majesty on high (Hebrews 1:3), and You will never be moved. You intercede for us with scars that speak mercy. You reign until every enemy becomes Your footstool (Psalm 110:1).
Let the heavens explode with praise! Let angels cry, “Holy!” Let demons tremble at Your name. Let all creation sing the anthem of the redeemed: “Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father!” (Philippians 2:11)
Our Lord, how wondrous great is Your exalted name. You are not just majestic you are holy, You are not just powerful you are good, You are not just eternal you are Emmanuel, God with us.
Let the whole earth tremble before You. Let the nations fall at Your feet. Let every tongue confess what creation already knows Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing (Revelation 5:12).
And let my own soul join that song, even if trembling, even if torn. Let my heart, in joy and sorrow, proclaim You as King. Let my worship rise from the ruins because You are not finished yet.
You will return. You will wipe every tear from every eye (Revelation 21:4). You will make all things new. You will judge in righteousness, and You will reign in peace.
Until then, I will sing. Until then, I will trust. Until then, I will wait with awe, with longing, with hope.
Oh Lord, our Lord, how majestic is Your name in all the earth.
Amen and amen.