The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows His handiwork.
Loved by God the Creator
Venture away from the city lights on a clear night, and look up at the sky. That fuzzy band of white light is our galaxy, the Milky Way. One hundred billion stars. Our galaxy is one of billions of others! Who can conceive of such a universe, let alone infinite numbers of universes?
No one can. But let’s try anyway. Suppose you attempt to drive to the sun. A car dealer offers you a sweet deal on a space vehicle (no doubt solar powered) that averages 150 miles per hour. You hop in, open the moonroof, and blast off. You drive nonstop, twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year. Any guess as to the length of your trip? Try seventy years! Suppose, after stretching your legs and catching a bit of sun, you fuel up and rocket off to Alpha Centauri, the next closest star system. Best pack a lunch and clear your calendar. You’ll need 15 million years to make the trip.
Don’t like to drive, you say? Board a jet, and zip through our solar system at a blistering six hundred miles per hour. In 16.5 days you’ll reach the moon, in seventeen years you’ll pass the sun, and in 690 years you can enjoy dinner on Pluto. After seven centuries you haven’t even left our solar system, much less our galaxy.
Our universe is God’s preeminent missionary. “The heavens declare the glory of God” (Psalm 19:1 niv). A house implies a builder; a painting suggests a painter. Don’t stars suggest a star maker? Doesn’t creation imply a creator? “The heavens declare His righteousness” (Psalm 97:6). Look above you…
If God can make a billion galaxies, can’t he make good out of our bad and sense out of our faltering lives? Of course he can. He is God.
[3:16: The Numbers of Hope]
Your creative powers are mind-boggling. The universe you have created is beyond comprehension. You created everything by your mighty power, and you sustain everything by that same power. How comforting to know that you can create galaxies and yet you care about every detail in my life. What a privilege to trust in your loving power no matter what comes my way,
Your thoughts toward us cannot be recounted to You in order; if I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered.
~ Max Lucado ~