The Heavens Declare

An Astronomer Explores Space, Creation, and the Majesty of God

After more than a year, and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, I submitted the manuscript for my astronomy-themed devotional, The Heavens Declare: An Astronomer Explores Space, Creation, and the Majesty of God. As we get closer to the release date—my book will hit shelves November of this year—I’ll release more teasers. For now, to celebrate the completion of the manuscript, I’m posting the introduction to my book.

And—get this—best-selling author, Lee Strobel, has agreed to write the foreword to The Heavens Declare! I’m still pinching myself.

Introduction

I’m known online for my apologetics work. Being raised atheist and coming to Christian faith through science as an adult made me an object of interest for many people. Science is supposed to destroy faith, not produce it! I’m living testimony that that’s not true. For the last twenty years, I’ve leveraged my story and scientific experience to help Christians maintain their faith in the face of seeming scientific obstacles.

I was poised to write what I hoped would be a definitive book about scientific apologetics—until a time of seemingly unending trials upended everything. Battles with cancer, lingering depression from the loss of my first daughter, family struggles, political and cultural chaos, and the profound disorientation of the world’s response to the Covid-19 pandemic left me burned out and exhausted. What once felt urgent and inspiring now seemed like a dry intellectual exercise. I put that book aside and, for several years, focused simply on survival—regaining my health, figuring out what happens after questioning so many “givens” in life, and learning to lean on God day by day.

In the midst of that darkness, a friend gave me Ruth Chou Simons’ devotional Beholding and Becoming. Drawing from 2 Corinthians 3:18—“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another”—the book contends that we become what we behold. Ruth’s entries encourage “everyday worship” alongside her gorgeous watercolor artwork, which captures God’s beautiful handiwork in nature. I found it refreshing, inspiring. Reading it, I wondered: Could I do something similar? Instead of presenting my own art, could I present God’s living artwork—the universe itself, as captured vividly by technological marvels like the Hubble Space Telescope and the James Webb Space Telescope? And thus the idea for this devotional was born.

God first called to me through His wondrous universe at the age of nine, long before I learned to recognize His voice. His cosmos is vast beyond imagination: hundreds of billions of galaxies, each containing hundreds of millions to trillions of stars, stretching across space that has been expanding since its explosive beginning billions of years ago. Yet amid this staggering scale, I finally realized something deeply personal is unfolding. The same heavens that reveal the laws of nature also speak the truth about the character of their Creator.

I know this not as abstract theology, but as lived experience. As an astrophysicist, I’ve spent years immersed in data, equations, and observations of the heavens. The more I studied the universe—its elegant order, its finely tuned constants, its origin in a singular beginning—the more I sensed an underlying intelligence and purpose. What began as intellectual curiosity became a pathway to awe, and eventually to worship. I will never look at a nebula, a distant galaxy, or the faint glow of the cosmic microwave background without thinking of the God who spoke it all into existence.

In those years of faith, I have been tested in ways I never anticipated. In seasons of profound loss and suffering, the heavens became more than objects of study; they became reminders of a sovereign God who holds not only the universe, but the broken pieces of His children’s lives, in His loving hands.

This devotional is born from that journey. Across thirty reflections, I explore celestial wonders—from the shimmering auroras that dance in Earth’s magnetosphere, to the ancient light of creation still washing over us today, to the scarred yet purposeful Moon, the majestic rings of Saturn born from brokenness, the graceful galaxies evoking God’s extravagance, and beyond. Each entry weaves modern astronomy, Scripture, and occasional forays into fictional realms with relatable human concerns.

The heavens declare more than bare scientific facts; they point to a sovereign, creative, redemptive God. The aurora transforms solar fury into beauty through Earth’s protective shield, reminding us of divine provision during trials. The cosmic microwave background envelops us like an eternal baptism, echoing God’s first words and His ongoing work of renewal. The Moon, barren yet vital in stabilizing life on Earth, mirrors our own calling to reflect Christ’s light into the world despite our fallen state. Saturn’s rings, forged from destruction, echo Romans 8:28—God working all things for good for those who love Him.

These are not mere analogies. They are invitations to see the natural world as a testament to God’s glory (Psalm 19:1), His power (Habakkuk 3), His immanence (Psalm 139), and His redemptive love. In an age when many of us feel disconnected from natural wonder—overwhelmed by screens, noise, anxiety, or despair—this book aims to rekindle it. All you have to do is look through these pages—or, better yet, look up. The stars are still there, speaking God’s promises.

My hope is that as you read these entries and gaze at the incredible images, you’ll journal your reflections and pray the accompanying Scriptures. Through this simple practice of beholding, may you experience the same quiet astonishment I felt when I first saw God in His creation. The universe is not indifferent. It is purposeful, ordered, and autographed by a God who knows you by name. He who stretched out the heavens like a curtain (Isaiah 40:22) invites you to know Him more deeply through the very creation He called good.

I hope these pages stir your heart to joy, trust, and worship—the kind that endures even when the night feels long. The God of planets and moons, stars and nebulae, black holes and galaxies, is the God who draws near.

Let the heavens declare His glory.