The older I get, the more haunted I am by a simple truth.
Most people—millions of them—will be born, breathe, laugh, love, work, suffer, and die… without ever truly knowing God.
They’ll raise children. They’ll attend weddings. They’ll bury parents. Some will even sit in churches. And still—they will not know Him.
They’ll know about Him. They’ll know how to bow their heads before meals and how to answer the questions in Sunday School. They’ll nod politely at sermons. But they won’t know His voice. They won’t hear Him in the quiet. They won’t walk with Him. And when their time comes, they’ll step into eternity as strangers to the One they were created for.
Psalm 19 wasn’t written to soothe. It was written to awaken.
The Sky Is Screaming. Are You Listening?
“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands” (Psalm 19:1).
You don’t need a theology degree to believe in God. You just need a pair of eyes.
Last week, I stood outside with my wife as the sun slipped beneath the Ozark hills. The sky caught fire—red and orange and violet, painted by a hand no one could see. My wife pointed and said, “It looks like heaven.”
She was right. It did.
And it was preaching.
The sun rises and falls with a voice older than language. The stars march in silence across the black canvas of night. The leaves shimmer. The cicadas scream. And all of it—the whole theater of nature—is pointing, testifying, declaring: God is.
Not was. Not might be. Is.
“There is no speech, nor are there words, yet their voice goes out through all the earth” (v. 3–4, paraphrased).
No one is without excuse. Every sunrise says so.
But here’s the part that should shake us: Creation can show you that God is, but it cannot tell you who He is.
And you cannot love a God you do not know.
Living in the Palace, Ignoring the King
Imagine living in a grand palace. The walls are lined with tapestries. The halls echo with music. The rooms are filled with beauty, design, and order. And though you’ve never seen the King, you know He must exist. His fingerprints are everywhere.
But you never ask for an audience. You never knock on the door of His throne room. You never hear His voice.
This is what it’s like to admire creation but ignore Scripture.
The first six verses of Psalm 19 tell us that God is the glorious Creator. But starting in verse 7, David takes us into a different room—a room filled with God’s words.
“The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul. The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.” (v. 7)
The Bible doesn’t just describe God. It introduces you to Him.
It tells the story of the One who split the sea, who thundered at Sinai, who led slaves into freedom and prophets into fire. The One who wrapped Himself in flesh, took lashes on His back, and walked out of a grave.
The Bible does not flatter you. It confronts you. It does not suggest truth. It declares it.
It calls your soul out of hiding. It wounds your pride. It reveals that your deepest problem is not that you’ve struggled—but that you’ve sinned.
And then it hands you the only cure.
Jesus.
The Scriptures are not one of many ways to know God. They are the way. The voice of God is not found in vibrations, feelings, or mountain-top mysticism. It is found in ink. In paper. In blood-stained words that point, page after page, to the Savior.
And yet, even this—hearing the Bible, reading it, quoting it—is not the final step.
Because it is possible to read God’s Word and still not know God.
The Moment Everything Changes
When James came to Christ, it wasn’t in a church. It wasn’t during a revival. It happened by a lake.
He was walking alone. He looked up at the Alps and down at the wildflowers. Something pierced him. It wasn’t awe—it was absence. He suddenly knew that Someone had made all of this, and he didn’t know who. And that not knowing felt unbearable.
He went home and opened a Bible.
A month later, he whispered through tears in a small prayer group, “I know Him now.”
That’s the moment everything changes.
David describes it like this:
“Who can discern his errors? Forgive my hidden faults. Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me.” (v. 12–13)
This isn’t religion. This is desperation.
This is the moment when you stop trying to tidy your life and start begging for mercy. When you realize your sins are not “mistakes”—they are high treason. When you stop managing your image and cry out for God to clean what you cannot reach: the secret places, the twisted thoughts, the motives behind the mask.
You are not ready to know God until you are ready to be undone.
And in that undoing, something beautiful happens.
The Word that wounded you begins to heal.
Your fear of punishment turns into a hunger to please. Your shame gives way to surrender.
And you say, like David does, with tears in your eyes and wonder in your voice:
“O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” (v. 14)
Not just the Lord. My Lord.
You’re not in the palace hallway anymore. You’ve met the King.
So I’ll Ask You Straight
Do you know Him?
Not, “Do you go to church?”
Not, “Have you been baptized?”
Not even, “Have you read your Bible?”
I’m asking: Do you know Him?
Because you can stand beneath the glory of creation, and still not know Him.
You can sit through a thousand sermons and still not know Him.
You can pray before meals, vote your values, give to missions, and still not know Him.
But you don’t have to stay that way.
Creation is still preaching. Scripture is still speaking. And the invitation still stands.
If you don’t know God—really know Him—then come to His Word. Let it wound you. Let it wake you. Let it lead you to the only One who can take away your sin, break your chains, and call you His.
And if you do know Him—but long to know Him more—don’t look for another experience. Don’t chase a sign. Don’t wait for a voice in the clouds.
Open the Book. The voice is already there.
“By them your servant is warned; in keeping them there is great reward.” (v. 11)
And that reward is not ease. It’s not wealth. It’s not comfort.
It’s Him.
Recommended Resource: If you’re studying the Psalms, you won’t want to miss my in-depth review of The Treasury of David by Charles Spurgeon. This timeless masterpiece unpacks the Psalms with rich theological insight, making it essential for devotion, sermon prep, or deep Bible study. Read the full review here.
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– Why Most Christians Lose Battles They Were Meant to Win (Psalm 20 Guide)
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