From Its Rising to Its Setting

There are certain words in Scripture that catch me before I understand why they caught me. I can read an entire verse, understand exactly what it is saying on the surface, and still have one word seem to rise off the page as though Holy Spirit has placed His finger underneath it and said, Stay here.

That happened to me this morning.

“From the rising of the sun to its setting the name of the LORD is to be praised.” — Psalm 113:3

The first thing that caught my eye and hit my spirit was setting. Now, I know what the sentence is saying. Sunrise to sunset. There is nothing complicated about that. But that was not how the word initially landed in me.

I heard setting the way we use the word when we set something. You set a dial. You set a configuration. You establish a setting. You determine what something is calibrated to before everything else begins functioning inside of it.

And when a word catches me like that, I have learned not to rush past it simply because I already understand the sentence. So I went looking at the Hebrew.

And that is where this became quite interesting.

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Read the Whole Psalm Before You Read the Verse

Psalm 113 does not begin with the sun. It begins with praise.

“Praise the LORD! Praise, O servants of the LORD, praise the name of the LORD!” — Psalm 113:1

“Blessed be the name of the LORD from this time forth and forever.” — Psalm 113:2

Then comes the verse that caught me: “From the rising of the sun to its setting the name of the LORD is to be praised.” — Psalm 113:3

But keep reading. The LORD is high above all nations, His glory above the heavens. He is enthroned on high, yet humbles Himself to regard heaven and earth. Then He reaches lower still, raising the poor from the dust, lifting the needy from the ash heap, seating them with princes, and making the barren woman a joyful mother of children.

Do you see what is happening?

Rising and setting. High and low. Heaven and earth. Dust and elevation. Barrenness and fruitfulness.

Suddenly verse 3 is sitting inside an entire psalm built around movement, position, reversal, and a God whose exaltation does not prevent Him from reaching into the lowest human condition.

In fact, His height makes His stooping all the more astonishing.

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From the Rising to Its Going In

Psalm 113:3 in Hebrew reads:

מִמִּזְרַח־שֶׁמֶשׁ עַד־מְבוֹאוֹ מְהֻלָּל שֵׁם יְהוָה

Mimmizrach-shemesh ʿad-mevo’o, mehulal shem YHWH.

Very closely: “From the rising of the sun until its going in, praised is the name of YHWH.”

The word translated rising is mizrach, מִזְרָח, connected with the Hebrew root zarach, זָרַח: to rise, shine forth, break forth with light. Mizrach can also refer to the east because east is where the sun rises.

The verse begins where light breaks forth. Something previously beyond your sight appears on the horizon.

But then we reach the word that caught me.

The Hebrew is עַד־מְבוֹאוֹ — ʿad-mevo’o. ʿAd means until, as far as, up to. Mevo’o comes from bo, בּוֹא, meaning to come, enter, go in, arrive. The related noun mavo can describe an entrance or coming in, and in this context the sun’s setting.

So listen to the imagery. The sun comes forth. Then the sun goes in.

And everything between those boundaries belongs to praise.

That is where the English word setting began opening in another direction.

What if praise is the setting?

Not because mavo means configuring a dial—it does not—but because the verse establishes praise across the entire movement from rising to setting.

What have I calibrated my interpretation to? What determines the atmosphere through which I interpret whatever happens between my rising and my lying down?

Because before circumstances tell me what kind of day this will be, Psalm 113 has already established something.

Praised is the name of YHWH.

Before the phone call. Before the disappointment. Before the breakthrough. Before what I prayed for appears, and before what appeared seems to disappear again.

The setting has already been established. Praise.

And even praised deserves attention. The Hebrew is mehulal, מְהֻלָּל, from halal, הָלַל: to praise, celebrate, boast, glory in, acclaim. It is the same root family from which we receive Hallelu-Yah—Praise Yah.

But notice: Praised is the name of YHWH.

His worthiness is not waiting for me to decide whether the day deserves praise. Throughout Scripture, a name is intertwined with identity, character, authority, and revealed nature. So when I praise His Name, I am remembering Who He has revealed Himself to be.

I may not know what God is doing. But I can know who God is.

Those are not the same kind of knowing. And sometimes when I cannot possess the first, I have to plant both feet deeply into the second.

Then notice how the territory expands. Verse 2 declares His Name blessed from now to forever. Verse 3 extends praise from rising to setting. Verse 4 declares His glory above all nations and above the heavens.

Now to forever. East to west. Earth to above the heavens.

It is almost as though the psalmist keeps enlarging the perimeter until there is nowhere left outside of it.

Malachi echoes this horizon: “For from the rising of the sun even to its setting, My name will be great among the nations…” — Malachi 1:11

This is larger than praising God in the morning and again before bed.

It encompasses the horizon.

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But What Happens When the Sun Sets?

This is where I stopped.

Because what exactly happens when the sun sets?

Does the sun cease to exist? Of course not. Does its light cease to exist? No. Does the sun become less real because I can no longer see it?

No.

What changed?

My position relative to its visibility.

The sun remains beyond the horizon available to my present sight.

And there it was.

Sometimes what disappears from sight has not disappeared from reality.

There are seasons when I can clearly see what God is doing. Connections are happening. Doors are opening. His fingerprints seem to be everywhere.

And then there are sunsets.

Something moves beyond my horizon. I cannot see what He is doing, and suddenly I am tempted to allow visibility to become evidence of existence.

If I cannot see movement, perhaps nothing is happening. If I cannot feel Him, perhaps He is distant.

But every evening creation gives us a living parable.

The sun does not stop existing when your eyes stop seeing it.

The reality remains while visibility changes.

And Psalm 113 tells me what to do at both boundaries. Praise Him when evidence appears, and when evidence disappears beyond the horizon.

Because my praise is anchored in His Name, not my present visibility.

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And Then God Stoops

Now the psalm changes scale so dramatically that it almost takes your breath away.

This God whose glory is above the heavens stoops to look upon heaven and earth. Then He notices dust. One person. One low place. One life.

“He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap, that He may seat them with princes, with the princes of His people.” — Psalm 113:7–8

Above the heavens. Down to earth. Down farther. Dust. Ash heap.

And He sees them there.

The God above nations notices the person in the dust. The God whose praise stretches across the horizon sees the private ache nobody else knows how to touch.

Infinite greatness does not produce divine distance. His greatness makes room for His nearness.

And then He does something.

He raises. He lifts. He seats.

Dust. Princes.

Look at how little space Scripture puts between those conditions.

One verse.

And by the end of the psalm, this God whose glory is above the heavens has reached into one woman’s house: “He makes the barren woman live in the house as a joyful mother of children.” — Psalm 113:9

Nations. Heavens. Earth. One woman. One private longing.

He can govern what is enormous without overlooking what feels small to everyone except you.

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What Looks Set May Not Be Settled

And now I came back to the English word that started all of this.

Setting.

Because something is set when it appears established. Fixed. Determined. Settled into position.

Yet look at the conditions inside Psalm 113.

Poor. Needy. Dust. Ash heap. Barren.

Those circumstances could look terribly set if you were standing inside them. You could think, This is simply what my life is now.

But the psalm describes YHWH raising the poor, lifting the needy, seating them among princes, and giving the barren woman a household filled with joy.

What human beings call set is not necessarily settled before God.

A financial reality can look set. A legal circumstance can look set. A barren place can look set. And when something remains unchanged long enough, permanence can begin disguising itself as fact.

But Psalm 113 introduces us to a God who changes positions.

Do not mistake where something is presently sitting for where God is capable of seating it.

And that does not mean pretending the present condition is something other than what it is. The poor person is genuinely poor. The barren woman is genuinely barren.

Biblical praise is not denial.

Faith is not calling dust a throne. Faith is knowing the God who can lift you from one and seat you upon the other.

We do not have to manufacture realities God has not spoken or pretend something does not hurt. We simply refuse to make the present condition sovereign.

God remains sovereign.

And because He remains sovereign, I can tell the truth about where I am without believing where I am is necessarily where the story ends.

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Hallelu-Yah at Both Ends

And then I noticed something I absolutely love.

Psalm 113 begins with Hallelu-Yah.

And Psalm 113 ends with Hallelu-Yah.

The entire psalm is enclosed in praise.

Imagine the psalm as a room. At the entrance: Hallelu-Yah. At the exit: Hallelu-Yah. And inside that room are sunrise, sunset, nations, heavens, dust, poverty, princes, barrenness, and fruitfulness.

Every one of those conditions exists inside the boundaries of praise.

And suddenly the word that caught me comes all the way back around.

Setting.

What if praise is not merely my reaction to the environment? What if praise becomes the environment in which I interpret everything else?

Most of us allow circumstances to establish the setting, then decide whether praise belongs inside it.

But Psalm 113 reverses the architecture.

Praise establishes the setting first. Then circumstances enter it.

Praise is not merely the sound of someone who has received the answer.

Praise is also the posture of someone who knows the Name.

And perhaps that is what Holy Spirit was opening for me when setting would not let me go.

Do not allow what is happening around you to become the setting that determines what is true about God.

Set your interpretation inside what you already know about His Name. Set your heart there. Set your expectation there. Set your praise there.

Because the sun setting does not mean the sun died. What remains real has simply moved beyond what your present position allows you to see.

Maybe someone reading this is standing at a sunset right now. Something has moved beyond your sight. You cannot see what God is doing with it anymore.

Before you call it gone, look at the horizon again.

Not with denial. With remembrance.

You have watched the sun set before. And not once did darkness have the authority to prevent morning.

So praise Him at the rising. Praise Him through the middle. Praise Him at the setting. Praise Him when you can trace His hand and when you have to trust His heart.

Not because every circumstance is good. But because the God capable of reaching from above the heavens into the dust is still God when the light moves beyond your horizon.

And the thing that looks set may not be settled.

The dust may be real. But so is the One who raises. The need may be real. But so is the One who lifts. The barrenness may be real. But so is the One who makes fruitful. The sunset may be real. But so is the morning you cannot see yet.

And until it breaks across the horizon, I know what setting I want my heart calibrated to:

Hallelu-Yah.

At the beginning. At the end. And in every unseen place between.

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I HEAR THE SPIRIT SAY…

“Beloved, do not let the setting of the sun become the setting of your faith.

I know how much easier it is for you to recognize Me in the rising. When the light breaks through, when the answer comes, when something you have prayed over finally begins moving, you can see My hand so clearly.

But come closer, because there is something I want you to understand about the setting.

When you cannot trace My hand, do not rewrite My heart.

The sun does not cease to exist because you cannot see it from where you are standing. Neither do I. And what I am doing does not cease simply because it has moved beyond your understanding.

There are things happening beyond your present horizon. Movements you cannot track. Conversations you cannot hear. Places where I am already working that you have not yet seen.

Do not confuse unseen with inactive.

I know there are places in your life that have remained unchanged for so long that you wonder whether they ever will. I know what it feels like when another day ends and what you have been praying for still looks exactly as it did yesterday.

But beloved, length of time does not make something sovereign.

Do not give the present condition naming rights over the future. Let Me tell you what something is capable of becoming.

I see differently than you do. You see the horizon. I see beyond it. You see the sunset. I see the morning already moving toward you from the other side. You see where the light disappeared. I see where it still shines.

And I see you.

I see the places where you feel small. I see the dust you have been sitting in. I see the private longing you have carried so quietly that sometimes you wonder whether anyone knows it is there.

I do.

My glory is above the heavens, beloved, but My heart has never been too far above you to reach where you are.

So you do not have to pretend the dust is not real. You do not have to call the waiting easy. You do not have to manufacture a sunrise because you are afraid that acknowledging the darkness means you have stopped trusting Me.

Just let Me be God in the middle of it.

Let Me hold what you cannot understand. Let My Name become the place where your heart rests when everything around you feels unsettled.

You do not need to see everything I am doing to know I am still faithful.

So praise Me in the rising. Praise Me in the setting. And when the light slips beyond your horizon, remember that you are not standing outside My care.

I am still the One who raises. Still the One who lifts. Still the One who makes fruitful.

Keep your heart set on Me, beloved.

Because what looks set may not be settled.

And what has moved beyond your sight may already be moving toward its rising.”