By John Fulton
God, My God, as I pour out to You, I want to express my praise and admiration and exaltation of You.
I call You my God, greatly to be praised, and so You are.
I call You Most Holy, and so You are.
I call You Mighty and Majestic, and so You are.
I call You the Most High, and so You are.
I call You my Lord, and so You are.
I call You my Rock and my Shield, and so You are.
I call You my Savior, my Refuge, my Shield, my Ever-Present Help in time of need, and so You are.
You are glorious; You are glorious; You are the most glorious.
And yet, my God, even though all these are true, they often seem so shallow, so inadequate to describe who You are.
Even though they be the outpourings of the joy and awe and reverence in my heart, they can feel like simple pandering – my efforts to butter You up in order to grant my selfishly motivated request, for they are so inadequate to who You are.
Yet, You know my heart; You know my love and affection for You that, though my best efforts at adoration and praise be like the babbling of a baby, I can see the grin on Your face, the twinkle of joy in Your eye, for it brings You joy to look down upon me in Your arms and hear my babbling and listen to me coo.
As a newborn has no idea how they bring pleasure to their parents despite the crying, despite the diapers to be changed, despite the sleepless nights, so I do not understand how I can bring You pleasure.
Yet, as the understanding of the baby matters not, for the parents rejoice, so my understanding matters not, for You rejoice.
O’ My God, Yahweh, Majestic and True, if all of creation was changed to pen and ink and papers, I would still lack the space to adequately describe Your glory, for You are glorious, You are glorious, You are the most glorious, forever and ever.
_ _ _