The ancients watched the stars far more than I do, and they possessed more knowledge of the heavens than we tend to credit.

Job described the Lord in celestial terms: He stretches out the north over the void and hangs the earth on nothing.

Our Creator hung the earth as easily as I hang a picture on the wall. Or as easily as I toss a ball in the air, except the ball doesn’t fall but hangs suspended. Then the Lord maintains the earth’s location and spin and tilt and precise distance from the sun, making this orb the perfect place for life to flourish.

Our lives in particular.

As the Lord orchestrated this heavenly symphony, he added a movement to appear later in the performance. A couple thousand years after Job, a brilliant star emerged. Astronomers from the east —wise men—took notice and followed.

They discovered a newly born king, dangling near poverty, suspended in the mid-air of religion and politics and power, waiting for his time to make lives flourish.

Our lives in particular.

One night this next week the sky will clear and the stars shine bright. Look up with me and take notice. Pay attention to the details of the heavens, remembering the Lord who hung this earth and placed our Savior here among us.

Job 26 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by NASA