Last week I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I did something I don’t do often enough.
I went outside in the backyard, lay down on the trampoline, and just stared at the stars.
I listened to crickets.
I felt the breeze.
I enjoyed the fading sensations of summer.
It’s not going to be here much longer, you know. In fact, yesterday was the first day of autumn. Before the summer slips away completely, I hope you’ll go out some evening and do some star gazing.
While looking up at all those pinpoints of light, thought of the Scripture:
Taking time to stare at the night sky puts us in our place. The universe is vast, and we are tiny in comparison. It’s enough to prompt us to say,
Lying there in the cool night air, staring at the stars (and the occasional plane passing over), the thought occurred to me that this beautiful, relaxing experience is available just about every night. It’s always there, but I so seldom take advantage of it. I’m too busy checking off to-dos and wrapping up my day and checking email one more time.
Star gazing is an tangible reminder that creation is so much bigger than my immediate concerns. It’s a great way to “zoom out” and get things back in perspective. It reminds us that just as God is holding the night sky together, just maybe He can hold my stuff together too.
I remember one night many years ago while our family was camping, I was the last one by the fire after everyone had gone to sleep. It was just God and me, and I looked up at that night sky and had this overwhelming sense of God’s presence. In that moment, I felt completely and fully loved even though I wasn’t accomplishing a thing. For someone who often feels like my value is in what I DO, it was a powerful experience of unconditional love, and it happened while I was taking time out to do – nothing. Nothing but soak in the beauty of the night sky.
I hope you will take a break to do some star gazing before the weather turns nasty. And I pray that God will speak peace and comfort to your spirit as He does to mine in those moments of stillness.
Near the end of my star gazing last week, I saw a shooting star. From the recesses of my consciousness came a nudge that I was supposed to make a wish. But in that moment I couldn’t think of anything to wish for. I already have all I could ever want.