Every once and a while I stumble onto a Netflix documentary that rocks my understanding of the world, and One Strange Rock did just that. In it, I learned about a cyclical process in nature that produces oxygen for us to breath. Growing up, I always learned that trees produce our oxygen, but honestly it isn’t enough to support the life we currently have on the planet. One Strange Rock describes the secret to Earth's oxygen... diatoms. Diatoms are trillions of sea algae that generate 20-50% of the planet’s oxygen each year. Once these diatoms die, they fall to the sea floor. What we know now as the Sahara desert was once a sea floor, and its sands are made of trillions of tons of diatom shells Each year, they are transported by transatlantic winds to fertilize the Amazon basin. The trees in the Amazon are fertilized by these ancient diatom shells absorb that evaporates and becomes the Amazonian rain. When these weather systems hit the Andes mountain, the rock erodes and turns into sediment. This run off brings all the nutrients from the Amazonian forest floor into the ocean to feed THE DIATOMS.
This remarkable, cyclical system was engineered by an incredible mind who wants our planet and its creatures to flourish. When I think about the world and each fascinating, complex component it causes me to wonder.
G.K. Chesterton has a fascinating quotation that causes you to stop and think:
“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.”What if, when you looked out upon a field of daisies, God asked each individual one to sprout?
What if, when you bit into an apple, it was the specific fruit God asked the apple tree to bear?
What if, when you looked at the moon through your child’s telescope, God asked it to break from the horizon for the trillionth time?
What if, when your dog brought their ball back to you to throw again, God’s playful heart was behind each request?
What if, when you looked into your child’s eyes, God placed each color and hue meticulously there?
What if God “is strong enough to exult in monotony” and the fascinating world we see around us is intentionally infused with His creative heart and His “eternal appetite of infancy.” What if He is, each and every day and night, cheering the sun and moon on—chasing them around the sky. What if each molecule of oxygen made by the trees to allow me to keep breathing equal to a gift from my Creator. If He tenderly cares about the oxygen needed to keep my body going today, can I not also trust Him with the big questions that plague me today?
Perhaps this is why Jesus said:
“Consider the birds of the sky: They don’t sow or reap or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth more than they? Can any of you add one moment to his life span by worrying? And why do you worry about clothes? Observe how the wildflowers of the field grow: They don’t labor or spin thread. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was adorned like one of these. If that’s how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and thrown into the furnace tomorrow, won’t he do much more for you — you of little faith?” -Matthew 6:26-30
It was pondering this quote, and imagining every part of creation as God’s exclamation of love and care for His creatures, that spurred me to write this song. We called it “Psalm 151” because it was psalm-like in its structure, and was a compilation of some of my favorite thoughts in the psalms. Gratitude is the outpouring of a heart that recognizes that God provides—big and small—every day, and this is my song of praise.
You count the stars, each one by name
And light the sky ablaze
In faithful witness to declare
Your glory for all days
You send Your word, the seasons change
And prove Your faithful care
Snow, rain, and sun—treasures above
That yield a bounty here
What love, what love, what boundless love You gave
O break my heart beneath its weight
If every man from every time
Used every breath for praise
The days would still be far too short
To tell of all Your grace
What love, what love, what boundless love You gave
O break my heart beneath its weight
Your boundless love, no limit knows, Your heart is ever true
You fix Your gaze upon the one who seldom thinks of You
What love, what love, what boundless love You gave
O break my heart beneath its weight
If you’ve ever been to a large stadium for a sporting event or a concert, you know the power of a crowd. Sometimes I try to imagine myself surrounded with all people from all time—I know, it’s kind of a mind bender. Right now, with 7 billion people on the planet, we would all fit, shoulder to shoulder, in Los Angelos. If every human from every time was there, we will start filling up California. But when I put myself in the middle of that crowd, and imagine all God has done to sustain and make life possible for each person in that crowd, it’s humbling.
He knit each one in our mother’s womb. (Psalm 139:13)
He collects every tear. (Psalm 56:8)
He counts the hairs on our heads. (Matthew 10:30; Luke 12:7)
The state of California would be completely full of those whom He loves.
Now imagine if each of us were singing His praises at the top of our lungs.
Wow. The noise and praise emanating from that crowd would shake the world. I know this is a fictitious imagining, but this is where we can start to quantify how worthy God is of our admiration and total allegiance. When we consider the wonders of the universe, and His intimate care of each one of His creatures, praise erupts from our hearts and mouths, and it may be true that…
If every man from every time
Used every breath for praise
The days would still be far too short
To tell of all Your grace
