Does the Apple Core in the Sky Echo the Fall and Our Redemption?
Where the heavens remember our fall, and whisper of restoration.
High above the cool fall air, where the night sky can sometimes feel like it’s unfurling like scripture, there is a celestial target, one I have imaged before and really never gave it much thought until this week, when I saw it with new eyes, and it felt strangely familiar. The Dumbbell Nebula, which is also known as the Apple Core Nebula, rests in the constellation Vulpecula like a cosmic parable. Its shape evokes the bitten fruit of Eden, suspended in space as if to ask: do the heavens remember?
In Genesis, the fruit was forbidden. A symbol of trust broken, innocence lost. Eve reached, Adam followed, and the garden fell into silence. That single bite echoed through time, ushering in toil, sorrow, and the ache of separation from God. The apple became a wound in the story of creation, a wound we all experience in our lives at one point or many points on our journey.
And yet, the Apple Core Nebula is not a wound; it is a witness, it was there, it saw it all.
What we see is the radiant shell of a dying star, casting off its layers in a final act of brilliance. It is not destruction, but transformation. The core remains, glowing with purpose, surrounded by the beauty of what once was. In this way, the nebula to me becomes a metaphor for grace: even in death, there is light. Even in sin, there is hope.
The heavens do not condemn. They proclaim.
They proclaim a God who does not abandon His creation, but enters into it. From Eden to Calvary, the story arcs toward restoration. The bitten fruit set the stage for redemption. And now, in the quiet of the night, the Apple Core Nebula whispers of a love that reaches beyond the fall; it reminds me of a love that turns exile into homecoming, ashes into beauty.
So when I gaze upon this nebula, whether through a telescope or a photograph, I try to let it speak to me. I encourage you to let it remind you that the God who flung stars into space also carved a way back to Himself. That the bitten apple was not the end, but the beginning of a love story written in blood and light.
The night sky is not silent. It is speaking to me in ways I never imagined. If anything, this website I love dearly is encouraging me to dig deep into His night sky, far above the heavens, and that I always find light in darkness. God is telling me He is always there, and always reminding me He is in control.
Until next time, keep looking up!
-g
