A few months ago I was somewhere properly rural, miles from any town, and I looked up and just stopped. The sky was completely covered in stars — more than I think I'd ever consciously noticed before. It's one of those experiences that makes you feel both incredibly small and, somehow, completely held.
That's the moment Isaiah 40:26 came to mind: "Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing."
I find that verse almost hard to comprehend. Scientists estimate there are billions upon billions of stars, and yet scripture tells us God names each one individually. Nothing about His creation is generic or overlooked, including us.
I wanted to design something that held both halves of that truth — the sheer scale of the universe, and the personal, careful attention behind it. So I went for a deep midnight sky scattered with stars, softened by silhouetted branches creeping in from the edges, as if you're looking up through trees on a clear night.
I think a lot of us carry a quiet fear of being forgotten or unseen, especially in busy seasons of life. This verse pushes back against that so gently but so firmly. The same God who keeps track of every star in the sky has not lost track of you either.
If you've ever stood under a truly dark sky and felt that same mix of wonder and reassurance, I hope this print brings a little of that feeling home with you.