Oh God, my heart bows low before You, overwhelmed by the weight of Your glory. How can I begin to express what You mean to me? You are the infinite One, the holy fire that cannot be quenched, the beauty that outshines the heavens. You are my Creator, my Savior, my King—and yet, You call me friend. You stoop low to lift me high, and I am undone. Lord, You are the One who stretched out the heavens like a curtain, who painted the galaxies with a flick of Your hand. “He counts the stars and calls them all by name. How great is our Lord! His power is absolute! His understanding is beyond comprehension” (Psalm 147:4-5). The skies are Your canvas, the clouds Your chariot, and the roaring seas sing Your praises. What is man, Lord, that You are mindful of him? Yet, You crown me with glory and honor (Psalm 8:4-5). How can I ever repay such love? A God of Unparalleled Majesty I think of Isaiah’s vision, Lord, and my heart trembles. He saw You high and lifted up, seated on a throne, and the train ...