Curtis Klingle

Last night, the heavens danced. Waves of color—emerald green, violet, rose, and gold—rolled across the dark canvas of the sky in silent splendor. It was a geomagnetic storm, a rare celestial display where charged particles from the sun collide with the Earth’s atmosphere, painting the night with light. Yet to the naked eye, much of this beauty remained unseen. Only through the lens of my camera did the full spectrum of radiance emerge. The long exposure revealed colors invisible to human sight—brilliant hues and shifting shades that seemed almost otherworldly. In that moment, I could not help but think of the God who is Spirit, the invisible One whose glory fills all creation, yet whose majesty is truly revealed only when seen through the lens of His Word.

Just as the geomagnetic storm is invisible until its energy interacts with the atmosphere, so too God’s presence often moves unseen through the world. Scripture tells us, “God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:24). He is not apprehended by the physical eye nor measured by the instruments of men. Yet He is not distant; His glory pervades creation like unseen light. The psalmist declared, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands” (Psalm 19:1). What the geomagnetic storm does to the night sky, the Spirit of God does to the believing heart—He turns darkness into light, stillness into awe, and the unseen into splendor.

My camera became a tool of revelation, transforming the faint and hidden into the vivid and visible. The longer the exposure, the more glory the lens revealed. So it is with the Bible. The Word of God acts as a divine lens, focusing and filtering the otherwise imperceptible beauty of God’s nature into view. When we open the Scriptures, we see what our unaided hearts cannot: the radiant holiness of God, the brilliance of His mercy, the deep hues of His justice, and the tender glow of His love. Without that lens, God may seem distant or dim; but through it, He becomes majestic, marvelous, and infinitely radiant.

In the same way that a photograph captures what human sight cannot perceive in real time, faith captures what flesh cannot comprehend. The Apostle Paul wrote, “We walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7). Faith acts as the spiritual aperture through which the light of God floods our understanding. And when His light meets the atmosphere of a humble, believing heart, it produces something astonishing—a life illuminated by His beauty. The believer becomes, in essence, a living canvas upon which the invisible God paints His visible grace.

The geomagnetic storm is a fleeting wonder; its colors fade, its lights dissolve into night once more. But the God who inspired that beauty endures forever. His light never wanes. The aurora may shimmer for a moment, but the glory of the Lord shines eternally, burning brighter than any star, saturating the universe with meaning and majesty. Every pulse of color across the heavens whispers His invisible reality into visible form: “The invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made” (Romans 1:20).

Last night’s storm was more than a spectacle—it was a sermon. Nature became a sanctuary, the sky a cathedral, and light the preacher. And in that sacred moment, through the lens of my camera and the truth of His Word, I saw something profound: though my eyes are weak and my senses limited, my God is not. The unseen becomes seen, the spiritual becomes tangible, and the invisible God reveals Himself in radiant color to those willing to look through the right lens.