Participating in His Glory
“And let the whole earth be filled with His glory.” Psalm 72:19
When I lose vision, when my perspective is murky, when I’m under the weight of all — You remind me: there really is no weight to struggle under in You but for the weight of Your glory.
Every minute is being given over to Your glory and I got the invite. Anything less than this is a lesser life-goal.
And it’s here, standing with my toes barely wet from the last lap of Your ocean-deep against them, that I begin to think big. Your kind of big.
Father, Your kind of big allows me to be very small — safe — and allows You to overshadow all that I’m not. I can be that carefree little girl and dreamer, and still get lost in a big story when it’s about Your glory. Your kind of big is where I become less and You become great — over, in and through me.
I adore You, Father who didn’t come to just touch and move but to glorify … Yourself, and me in You. You magnify You in me, in spite of me.
Every bloom cracked open, every blade standing tall, every leaf showing its backside in the wind’s push has the same purpose. Every river-worn rock, every summer-tanned annual, every single ant has a place.
And I join the masses, big and small, torn, tattered and majestic in one single chorus where our big becomes small and we find the exhilaration we were made for as each one of our existences point towards Your big. Father, Your glory is both complete and expanding and I have a role.
I worship You, oh One who brought me into Your big fold.
You didn’t just come to offer me one-time salvation, to be present in that virgin “yes” I gave to You, You came to call me into Your great opus. And Your glory sets me free as I take my chair. You write me and the song that comes forth points back to You.
I was made to participate in Your glory.
I adore You for inviting my participation.
This participation speaks to my insides. It says: there is a bigger story than your broken existence. There is a bigger story amid your broken existence.
Father of glory, I thank you for the promise of Your glory that will fill the whole earth. I thank You that the broken me living on this broken soil is not the final verdict but the beginning of opportunity. I end and You begin and glory spills forth from that which is imperfect when it is washed by Perfection.
I look at You and You glorify me, just as that singular bloom, lingering long in the fall with its stem shooting high, shouts Your name. All of creation was made to bring You glory. And so was I.
I adore You who makes me a participant. I worship You, Father who calls me to a bigger story — always available, ever unfolding.
I praise You, Father of glory.
Let all of the earth, and let all of my insides, be filled with Your glory.
If you are compelled, I invite you to participate. Set up a space and time in your own life to begin adoring. Over laundry or dinner dishes, on your commute to work, or in the wee morning hours — five or ten minutes is a great start. You can use the verse I list here every day or two as a launch pad for your own adoration. (Showing Up gives you some practicals.)
Then practice praise.
I promise your weary soul won’t regret it.
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