The Bubble Nebula and the Illusion of Safety
When the Heavens Mirror Our Need for Control
In the constellation Cassiopeia, 7,100 light-years from Earth, a massive star breathes out a shimmering sphere of gas and dust known as the Bubble Nebula (NGC 7635). It’s a stunning sight, an iridescent shell suspended in space, sculpted by stellar winds and surrounded by cosmic silence.
But the beauty of the Bubble Nebula belies a deeper truth: it’s not a sanctuary. It’s a pressure zone. The star at its center is so powerful that its radiation pushes outward, inflating the bubble against the resistance of the surrounding molecular cloud. What looks peaceful is actually turbulent. What seems protective is, in fact, unstable.
I’ve lived like that.
For years, I built my own bubble, crafted from routines, guarded by control, sealed with fear. It felt safe. Predictable. But inside, I was shrinking. The very walls I thought were protecting me were keeping me from growth, from connection, from the wild grace of God. I was a bubble of self-destruction waiting to burst, and I did, and it was not pleasant.
Scripture speaks to this illusion. In Isaiah 43:2, God says:
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.”
Notice the promise isn’t to avoid the waters or the fire. It’s to walk through them, with God beside us. Faith doesn’t mean living in a bubble. It means trusting that we’re held, even when the winds rise and the pressure builds.
The Bubble Nebula reminds me of this. Its fragile shell is beautiful, yes—but it’s also temporary. Eventually, the forces within will rupture the boundary. The star will keep shining. The bubble will dissolve. And the light will reach farther than it ever could inside that shell.
That’s the invitation: to live uncontained.
To let fear give way to freedom.
To trade isolation for intimacy.
To trust that God’s presence is not found in the bubble, but in the breaking.
Psalm 34:18 says:
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
I’ve found that nearness in the night sky, in the quiet awe of nebulae and comets, in the mystery of galaxies that whisper of eternity. And I’ve found it in the breaking of my own bubble, when I finally let go of the illusion of control and stepped into the wild, wondrous unknown of Jesus and His light.
So tonight, as you gaze upward, let the Bubble Nebula be more than a marvel. Let it be a mirror. Ask yourself: What bubble have I built? And what might God be inviting me to walk through instead?
Until next time, keep looking up!
-g
