stars

   My first memory of stars took place in Washington on one surprisingly non-rainy evening. Our family was standing in the driveway next to our partially remodeled home when my dad pointed out the Big Dipper to my sister and I. I was amazed that not only were stars so tiny and shiny, but they could be recognized in specific shapes or, in big people terms: constellations. That long ago evening began a love I still hold for the night sky and the little stars that fill its expanse.

 
   As I was walking home from church the other evening I was watching the stars and thinking about their consistency in my life. They are always there, they never change, and I know I can always find them... Gazing at the stars that night brought sparks of precious memories back to mind. 

 
   (I know my heart is already sentimental, but I feel like this blogging business is magnifying the emotion behind whatever I write. Am I really such a sap? I guess I am... maybe blogging helps me feel the safety to portray emotion where I usually only brush the surface in normal conversation... which I guess is alright, it's my blog right?)

 
   Anyway! Since I'm on the sentimental star memory avenue, I'll indulge myself by writing out some favorites...

 
   One night a bunch of years ago a group of us were sightseeing at various locations around Yemen. That night's destination was a sandy beach on the Indian Ocean. Us kids were sitting in the back of a large, tan Land Cruiser enjoying various games of "concentration," word memory songs, and stories from It's a Jungle Out There. The dirt road was bumpy and night had fallen dark around as we drove towards the, mainly deserted, beach ahead. The plan for our stay there was to enjoy swimming in the crystal blue water during the day, and spy on the giant sea turtles laying their eggs at night. As the cars rumbled towards the beach, we slid open the side windows of the vehicle and crawled out to sit on the window frames while clutching the roof-rack. Leaning backwards and tilting your head up towards the heavens gave the most breath taking view of the starry night. The sky was void of clouds and the stars seemed to literally fill the entire expanse. The Milky Way ran like a river through the canopy of twinkling lights. There were so many stars so close together, and so bright, that I had trouble finding any constellations I knew. Hanging out that car window I felt the joy of the experience fill me- the sky seemed so vast, so beautiful, so detailed, and I had the privilege of witnessing it.

   During my high school years in Kenya many nights were filled with star gazing. Friends bundled in sweatshirts and masi blankets would venture to the grassy field and lay close together to keep from shivering in the cold as we watched the stars. Laughter, singing (usually Disney songs or the latest song from the Sunday evening worship night), and random conversations emerged from such evenings. Whenever a shooting star was spotted a shout and pointed fingers rose towards the sky to mark the event. We'd lay there without a care in the world- homework would be done later, no one was in a hurry to go anywhere- a bell would summon us back to our dorms when it got late enough... no one cared for the future, or worried about life- we were at peace, happy to enjoy the moment, happy to enjoy our friends. These nights were blessed. These nights were also normal- I never would have thought that my evenings of sunsets and nights of stars would become lost in my past. They were such a healthy part of relaxing and enjoying God's creation. They were and are a continual reminder of God's magnitude, His consistency day after day, and His love of detail.

   One day I would love to travel somewhere miles away from civilization, away from man-made lights and the noise of cars and electronics, to gaze at a star-filled sky. How marvelous to feel so small in the vast canopy of stars, yet so loved and treasured at the same time. I feel like such a trip would be a glorious and majestic God-magnifying experience.