537_Bless the Lord, the creator

Psalm 104:1-9 Bless the Lord, O my soul!
O Lord my God, you are very great!
You are clothed with splendor and majesty,
2 covering yourself with light as with a garment,
stretching out the heavens like a tent.
3 He lays the beams of his chambers on the waters;
he makes the clouds his chariot;
he rides on the wings of the wind;
4 he makes his messengers winds,
his ministers a flaming fire.

5 He set the earth on its foundations,
so that it should never be moved.
6 You covered it with the deep as with a garment;
the waters stood above the mountains.
7 At your rebuke they fled;
at the sound of your thunder they took to flight.
8 The mountains rose, the valleys sank down
to the place that you appointed for them.
9 You set a boundary that they may not pass,
so that they might not again cover the earth.

Vs. 31-35 May the glory of the Lord endure forever;
may the Lord rejoice in his works,
32 who looks on the earth and it trembles,
who touches the mountains and they smoke!
33 I will sing to the Lord as long as I live;
I will sing praise to my God while I have being.
34 May my meditation be pleasing to him,
for I rejoice in the Lord.
35 Let sinners be consumed from the earth,
and let the wicked be no more!
Bless the Lord, O my soul!
Praise the Lord!

A little boy was walking along the beach after a storm. The sand was littered with seashells, fragments of coral, and even bits of driftwood that the ocean had tossed up overnight. The boy bent down, picked up one shell, and held it up to his ear, listening for that faint whisper of the sea. His eyes widened as though he was hearing something far more profound than just an echo. When someone asked him what he was doing, he replied, “I’m listening to God’s voice in His creation.”

That simple, childlike response is what Psalm 104 invites us to do? To listen—to really listen—to the voice of God in the world He made. This psalm is like a guided tour through creation, with the psalmist as our narrator, pointing out the majesty, beauty, and purpose woven into every corner of the universe. He does not present creation as random or meaningless, but as intentional, ordered, and full of God’s sustaining power. And as we listen to the psalm, we cannot help but join in the final chorus: “Bless the Lord, O my soul.”

The psalm begins with a vision of God as a great King, clothed in splendor and majesty. The poet describes God using light as His garment, stretching out the heavens like a tent, riding on the clouds as His chariot, and making the winds His messengers and the flames of fire His servants. It’s a picture of royal majesty beyond imagination. Just as an earthly king surrounds himself with grandeur, attendants, and pageantry, the Lord of heaven and earth surrounds Himself with light, sky, clouds, and fire. What a vision of glory! It should move our hearts to bow in reverence before this King of creation.

Then the psalmist turns to the earth itself. He says, “He set the earth on its foundations, so that it should never be moved. You covered it with the deep as with a garment; the waters stood above the mountains.” Long before modern science studied geology, here is a poetic description of the earth’s dramatic history. Recent discoveries confirm that marine fossils and seashells can be found on the highest mountains, including the Himalayas. The seabed was once lifted up into towering peaks. The psalmist, writing thousands of years ago, was already reflecting on the reality that water once covered the earth. He connects this to the truth of God’s sovereign act: at His rebuke the waters fled, the mountains rose, the valleys sank down, and boundaries were set that the seas could not cross again.

This is no small statement. Even today we know how fragile the balance of sea levels is. A rise of only a few hundred feet in sea level would drown most of our modern coastal cities. But God has placed limits. He said, as in Job 38, “Thus far shall you come, and no farther, and here shall your proud waves be stayed.” Science may explain the mechanics of tides and currents, but it cannot answer the deeper question of who established these rules in the first place. Imagine a rubber ball bouncing into the room where you sit. Scientists could gather and analyze the ball’s composition, its bounce pattern, its color, even the air currents affecting its movement. But none of them could tell you who threw the ball and why. For that, you must ask the thrower. In the same way, we may study the processes of nature endlessly, but only God Himself reveals the purpose behind them.

The psalmist then shifts our gaze to the springs that quench the thirst of wild animals, the streams that water the mountains, and the trees that provide homes for birds. Everything has its place and purpose. “The earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work,” he says. Grass, plants, vines, oil, and bread—all are given with intentional design. Even the high mountains serve as a home for the wild goats, and the crags of the rocks are a refuge for the badgers. Nothing is wasted; everything is cared for.

Then he looks upward. “He made the moon to mark the seasons, and the sun knows its time for setting.” The rhythm of day and night unfolds under God’s wisdom. Night belongs to the creatures of the wild; the lions seek their prey in the darkness. When the sun rises, they retreat, and mankind goes out to labor until evening. The cycle of time, the balance of work and rest, all are part of God’s providence.

The psalmist cannot contain his wonder: “O Lord, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.” His vision stretches out to the sea, vast and teeming with life, with “innumerable creatures, living things both small and great.” And then comes that intriguing mention of Leviathan. In Job, God describes Leviathan as a terrifying, untamable sea monster, a symbol of His might and sovereignty. But here in Psalm 104, Leviathan is pictured as simply playing in the sea, like a child splashing in water. God feeds even this monstrous creature, ensuring it has what it needs.

What a striking thought—that the Creator is mindful of even the creatures He made for play! If He cares for Leviathan, how much more does He care for you and me, His beloved children? Jesus echoed the same truth when He said, “Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6:32–33).

The psalmist’s reflection turns into prayer: “May the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the Lord rejoice in His works.” He recognizes that creation is not just for our benefit, but for God’s own joy. The mountains, the seas, the animals, and the skies are part of God’s delight in His handiwork. And this realization leads the psalmist to a personal commitment: “I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being. May my meditation be pleasing to Him, for I rejoice in the Lord.”

But he does not end without a sober reminder. Those who rebel against this Creator, the wicked who ignore His sovereignty, have no place in His kingdom. They will be consumed. The psalm began with “Bless the Lord, O my soul,” and it ends the same way, as if to say that praising God is the proper response to everything we see in His creation.

So what does this mean for us? It means we are invited to see the world not as random or ordinary, but as alive with the fingerprints of God. Every sunrise, every bird’s song, every star in the night sky whispers a message: Bless the Lord, the Creator. It means we are called to trust the One who sustains it all. If He feeds the creatures of the sea, if He waters the mountains and provides homes for the birds, will He not care for you? Worry loses its grip when we remember the faithfulness of the Creator.

And it also means our lives should echo the psalmist’s conclusion. Worship is not confined to Sunday mornings or formal prayers. Every breath we take is an opportunity to say, “Bless the Lord, O my soul.” Every moment of work, rest, joy, or trial can become an act of trust and gratitude to the One who sustains all things by His powerful word.

The boy on the beach held up a seashell and said he was listening for God’s voice. What about you? When you look at the mountains, when you walk under the night sky, when you hear the birds at dawn, do you recognize the voice of the Creator calling you to praise? Let us join the psalmist and say with all our hearts, “I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being. Bless the Lord, O my soul.”