Planetshakers - This Is the Day Lyrics
Lyrics
Verse 1:
This is the day You made
I'll rejoice and be glad with all that I am
This is the day You made
I'll rejoice and be glad in You
Whoa
Verse 2:
This is the day You made
And Your mercies are new, Your promises true
This is the day You made
I'll rejoice and be glad in You
PRE CHORUS:
There's a supernatural praise rising up in my heart, up in my heart
A sound that has to be made, O Lord
Chorus:
So my heart will sing
You are good, You are good
And with everything
I will praise, I will praise
Bridge:
This is the day You made
So I will give You praise
Whatever comes my way
I'll rejoice in You
Video
Planetshakers - This Is The Day [with Lyrics]
Meaning & Inspiration
Planetshakers have always been a group that favors the momentum of a room over the quiet stillness of a chapel. In Outback Worship Sessions, they strip back the stadium-sized synthesizers they’re known for, yet they keep that specific urgency that defines the modern CCM industrial complex.
When they sing, "There's a supernatural praise rising up in my heart," they are tapping into a very specific lineage of Charismatic language. That word "supernatural" acts as a shorthand for a target demographic—people who aren't just looking for a song, but for an experience. It’s code. It promises the listener that what they’re doing on a Tuesday morning in their car is fundamentally different from a secular singalong. It elevates the act of singing from a hobby to an encounter with the divine.
But does the "vibe" eat the meaning?
When I hear the phrase "Whatever comes my way, I'll rejoice in You," it strikes me as a heavy lift for such a brisk, upbeat track. The music feels like a summer festival, all acoustic strumming and bright, open chords. It’s light. But the lyrics are anchoring themselves in something closer to the grit of Psalm 118:24, the classic "This is the day the Lord has made."
There is a strange friction here. On one hand, you have this relentless, sunny disposition—the kind that makes you want to tap the steering wheel. On the other, you have a theological commitment to endurance ("Whatever comes my way"). If you really lean into the gravity of that promise—the idea that you will praise God even through the wreckage of a bad year or a broken relationship—the song actually feels too fast. It’s almost like the tempo is trying to outrun the reality of the pain.
I’m left wondering if we use these upbeat arrangements to protect ourselves from the weight of our own prayers. If the song is too catchy, do we stop paying attention to what we’re actually promising God?
It’s a strange habit we have, putting our deepest vows to melody. We take the promise of unwavering devotion, lock it into a 4/4 pop structure, and suddenly it feels like a mandate for optimism. Yet, when I listen to it, I don’t feel like I’m being asked to ignore my problems. I feel like I’m being invited to try on a perspective that’s bigger than my current mood.
Maybe that’s the trick. The song isn't trying to match the heaviness of life; it’s trying to provide a counter-rhythm. It’s not necessarily a reflection of how I feel, but an instruction on how I should feel. Whether that’s a healthy way to process faith or just a way to dance around the hard stuff remains an open question for me. But as the track hits that final "rejoice," I find myself wondering if the praise is truly rising up from the heart, or if the rhythm is just dragging me along for the ride.