Stars.

Driving home on Franklin Road tonight, I found myself wrapped up in one of those contemplative, and simultaneously peaceful moments I do not want to forget. I spent the evening with good friends sharing a meal, laughing, and discussing a book called The Secret Message of Jesus. As I turned my jeep onto the dark road headed home, my mind was spinning as fast as the tires with thoughts about the future, Jesus, and tomorrow’s schedule.

It was a beautiful, crisp fall night so I opened my sunroof, nudged the temperature dial closer to heat, and turned on Sixpence None the Richer singing It Came Upon A Midnight Clear. (Yes, I know it’s ridiculous to listen to a Christmas song in late September, but something about their arrangement of that song makes me full of wonder in the deepest part of me.) Lost in the melody and curious thoughts of angels singing in the sky, I looked up and was in awe of the view. There were millions of stars twinkling above me with an occasional cloud as thin as the “see through cookies” my Grandma used to make (my official name for my favorite kind of cookie she baked). The soothing sounds of the music and the tiny specks of light filling the sky enveloped me. What was the sky like the night of Jesus’ birth? What was it like 33 years later? And now here I am over 2000 years later under the same stars. What does my future hold? And the question I’ve been thinking about since it was posed to me through a book in college and now recently in various conversations about life and the Kingdom of God. Who am I becoming? I once read a challenging statement that we are becoming who we’ll be forever. Tonight looking up at the stars, that idea inspired me. Inspired me to be more aware of others & what’s happening around me. More aware of our history. More aware of how I spend my time. More aware of what matters. More aware that God is real.

Growing up I was more aware of the night sky. I don’t know if it’s the city lights or if it’s the clouds of a busy schedule that distract me, but tonight I was reminded why I miss the darkness of the country. I’d forgotten how the night sky makes my heart come alive. No more.