My daughter wanted to sit on the back row so we would have the most dramatic view of the entire dome. She had been to a planetarium before on a field trip, so I trusted her judgment and we sat in the back. A twinge of excitement pulsed through me as the lights lowered and our “star guide” began reading her script in a low, almost whispery voice. Our journey through the stars began in the skies above North Carolina, but as we encountered the “fly out” experience that took us to the outer reaches of our galaxy and beyond, my breath caught in my throat and the words from Chris Tomlin’s classic worship song, Indescribable, began to play like a soundtrack in my mind.

Indescribable, uncontainable
You placed the stars in the sky
And You know them by name
You are amazing, God

My hands were turned open in praise as I sat there awe-struck and completely enraptured by my amazing God as I rode through the stars. Earth was so tiny now, barely visible at all, even as the entire dome was filled with countless stars that God knows by name! My soul was captivated by His might—His splendor—His majesty, but in the background I heard our star guide’s tone of voice change. She was no longer reading the script and her voice became vacant, hollow, perhaps even tinged with a strand of despair, “Seeing how small and insignificant we are leaves many people, including myself, in an existential crisis. If you need help, there are numbers you can call…”

Wait, what?

Her words hit me so hard that I felt a sense of spiritual whiplash. An existential crisis? How were we, two women in the exact same room, having such opposite experiences? Because of what we believe (or don’t believe).

What you believe matters.

The same sky that made our guide feel small and lost filled my heart with worship. The same vast universe that left her searching for meaning reminded me of the One who gives meaning to everything.

For those of us who trust in God, the future is never ultimately tinged with despair, but with hope. The best is always yet to come! Scripture tells us that “the heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands” (Psalm 19:1). This means that the stars are not silent. They are not meaningless lights scattered across a cold universe. They are witnesses—sparkling testimonies that point to the Creator who spoke them into being and who “calls them each by name” (Isaiah 40:26).

And the wonder does not end there.

The God who set the galaxies spinning is the same God who created us on purpose and for a purpose (Psalm 139:13-14; Jeremiah 29:11; Ephesians 2:10). The One who knows every star also knows everything about each of us—even the number of hairs on our heads (Matthew 10:30). The One who stretched out the heavens sent His Son, Jesus, into our tiny corner of the universe so that we could know Him back, be forgiven, and live forever in His presence.

What an astonishing message we carry!

In a world where many look up at the stars and feel only small, uncertain, or alone, we have the privilege of telling a different story. We get to share the good news that the universe is not vacant—it is filled with the glory of God. We get to proclaim that our lives are not insignificant—they are intentional; and we are deeply known and deeply loved by the Creator Himself.

So lift your eyes to the heavens and rejoice. Let the stars remind you of His greatness and fill you with hope. The Maker of the stars created you, He knows you, and He loves you. And when you meet someone searching for meaning beneath that same sky, don’t keep the wonder to yourself. Spread the good news of our amazing God.