We are going through the Psalms this summer in church. My son, Nate, wrote a poem, actually more of a rap, after we finished studying Psalm 8. It is a good reminder of the glories of creation and the evidence of God’s handiwork.
One hundred and eighty six thousand … miles per second
One hundred and eighty six thousand … miles per second
A light year should cause such a buzz
But for humanity it never really does
We live our lives in such a rush
Too busy to stop, to think, to hush
Consider the heavens and the stars
How far apart they really are
Go 186000 miles per second for a year
And Alpha Centuri won’t even seem near
Meanwhile the atoms that make up who we are
Contain more power than a neutron star
They are 99.99% empty space
Every breath we take is a gift of grace
Still we laugh in God’s face
Take pride in the things that man creates
Making it to the moon isn’t an accomplishment
We haven’t even scratched the surface yet
If the moon was closer. We’d all die
If the sun was closer. We’d all die
If Jupiter didn’t block asteroids. We’d all die
If God was gone and didn’t provide. We’d all die
We applaud the theories of Hawking
When we should be stopping and gawking
At glories in the skies
At the mercy in His eyes
Saying
How excellent is your name Lord, in all the Earth.
You set your glory in the skies, high above the Earth.
How magnificent is your name Lord, in all the land
You hold the galaxies in the span of your hand.
Four thousand and two hundred … Beats per minute
Four thousand and two hundred … Beats per minute
That’s how fast a hummingbird can fly
Faster than the blink of an eye
Have you ever stopped and wondered why
Caterpillars turn into butterflies.
How come we don’t find it a surprise
All the nutrients the ground supplies
What we consider waste goes to fertilize
The things we eat to keep us alive
That should blow our minds
To much of the breath we exhale is poisonous
But for both the plants and the trees it’s a must
And how nice of them to produce oxygen
So we fragile humans can take a breath again
The bombardier beetle has two chemicals it’s holdin’
That when mixed together cause an explosion,
That in turn causes predators to desist
Checkmate atheists
Sea cucumbers can regrow their intestines. They just replicate.
The earth has dynamic ecosystems. Science can’t duplicate.
The complexity of surrounding life; We should contemplate.
Nature proclaims the praises of God. We should reciprocate.
But we would much rather believe in natural selection
Then in a holy God’s perfection
Because we want our sin to escape detection
While we take for granted God’s protection.
But we should be saying.
How excellent is your name Lord, in all the Earth.
You’ve shown your glory in nature, it’s your handiwork.
How magnificent is your name Lord, in all the land
You hold the continents in the palm of your hand.
Two million five hundred thousand … Cells per second
Two million five hundred thousand … Cells per second
That is how many of our body’s cells die
We are dying while we’re still alive
Cells reproducing rapidly just to survive
All working interdependently or else we would die
Consider the miracle of conception
A human life form at its inception
It starts from a single cell
Nine months later you could never tell
Twenty-two days and the heart starts to beat
Five months in and he’s kicking his feet
God’s providence is so easy to see
But that’s not what they said to me
“A human fetus is just a clump of tissues”
Man, y’all have got issues
A single human eye has thousands of parts so you can see the view in them
And when babies come out of the womb they have two of them
What is man that God is mindful of him
What do we have to warrant his loving
Gaze upon us
Grace that’s on us
I’m in a haze if I’m honest
I’m amazed that you want us
As crazy as this world is
Nothing is crazier
Than you entering in
And being our Savior
Which is why I say
How excellent is your name Lord, in all the Earth.
You’ve shown your glory in my life, I’m your handiwork.
How magnificent is your name Lord, in all the lands
You have this frail form cradled in your hands
