Under the Stars
I love August nights. Standing still in the early darkness, listening to the wind rustle the firs up on the hill. The summer wind still has an amiable warmth on my bare neck as I tilt my head back for a full view of the sky.
I started sleeping under the stars when I was a child, hauling my mattress onto the second floor balcony. Sometimes I would build blanket forts, supported by kitchen chairs and held together with clothes pins. But mostly I slept in the open, with a sheet handy to pull over my head in case of the occasional pesky mosquito (yes, I was spoiled to grow up in a place like that... not the story for most Canadians).
I remember opening my eyes at just the right moment to see a meteor flash across the sky. I realize now this was part of the annual Perseid meteor shower. But as a child I would think about the night sky, feeling each meteor a special gift to see, wondering if the stars still existed (my much smarter older siblings told me sometimes they were so far away that the star could already be burned out while the light was still arriving at planet earth). I was wowed by the Milky Way, the size of the universe, and then by how much bigger God must be.
Fast forward a few decades to this summer, staying with my friends-like-family aunt and uncle. Same hill. Same warm August wind. Different balcony, but same desire to sleep under the stars.
I am glad for the night sky, and for the pause it gives me to remember. To remember that God is bigger. Bigger than any of the pressures in my adult life. And not just bigger, but the kind of God who can be trusted with these things because He is compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, abounding in lovingkindness, abounding in truth.
This is how He was when He made the universe. This is how He is now. A night sky that exists because of His lovingkindness. That same lovingkindess permeating my life from beginning to end. Puts everything in perspective.
The stars are there, whether I can see them in glorious display (remind me sometime to tell you about clear nights at sea), or whether clouds or daylight limit my view. As with the stars, I do not want to forget the unchanging truth that God is there in all His glory.
Music helps me remember, and this summer I've been noting songs that use the stars as reminders of who God is. Here's my list so far. If you have more to add, I'd love to hear.