Ryan's Ramblings

The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship. Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make him known.


—Psalm 19:1-2, NLT

I went for my first bike ride of spring the other day.

It had been a while, and I loved it—riding along the river, the air, the plants, the flowers, the sounds—it all felt alive, and so did I.

When I ride, I look around. I don’t just watch the blacktop and asphalt roll away under my tires—I look. I expect to see something. Not because I know what it will be, but because I know He’s there

I’m looking for the glory of God.

That day, in the midst of my twenty-mile ride, I saw two geese standing along the bank of the Boise River. The water moved behind them, catching the light—and it was beautiful.

I hit the brakes.

Right there in the middle of the ride, I turned around, went back, got off my bike, and stood there long enough to take it in… and take a picture

Two geese. A river. A moment that could have easily passed me by. But I’m learning—it’s always there. Always something amazing—quietly drawing my attention, if I’m willing to see it

Because God is never not speaking.

Psalm 19 says the heavens declare the glory of God. Day after day they pour forth speech. But then it says this: “They speak without a sound or word; their voice is never heard.” (vs. 3, NLT

And then the footnote offers another way to hear it:
“There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard.”

That stays with me. Because it means this—creation is speaking everywhere… all the time. Not loudly. Not forcefully. Not in competition with the noise of our lives. But steadily and faithfully.

The problem isn’t silence. It’s that so much in this world works to cover His voice—phones, busyness, drivenness, distraction—and underneath it all, is an enemy who would love to steal every precious little moment before it ever settles into something more.

So we rush past it. We look down. We keep going. And glory sits there… waiting.

Lift up your eyes and look around—on purpose and with anticipation. Don’t rush past what catches your eye. Put on the brakes when something stirs in you, and don’t explain it away, because more often than we think, that’s not random.

That voice without sound is Jesus—He is never not speaking.