Monday, July 5, 2010

I'll Take the Star Any Day

Driving north for an hour Saturday night, I passed hordes of people comfy in their lawn chairs on parkways in each town I passed through. It was just after 9 p.m., almost time for the Fourth of July fireworks to begin. I sensed eager anticipation as kids waved glow-wands and small flags. A few minutes later, fireworks began. I could see them in the open spaces off in the distance. To my right, first a red chrysanthemum, then a green one, blossomed in the sky, then dissipated into falling ash. To my left, a white rocket shot up into a boom of smoke. Also to my left was one star in the darkening blue expanse. I thought, God, certainly you can be showier than that. God-made stuff is always more majestic than man-made stuff. In the next open land I drove through, a beautiful white daisy grew up from the eastern horizon, then died. A white weeping willow appeared on the western horizon, then disappeared. The one star was still there. This scenario repeated the whole drive. By the time I got home, I was much more awed by the constancy of that one unwavering star than with all the shooting stars that flashed for a moment. Your love, O Lord, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the the skies. Psalm 36:5

1 comment:

tandemingtroll said...

I love it, Jane!

I was cleaning up my desk yesterday with a friend giving me moral support and organizational wisdom when I found the verse that you received for me for the Women's Prayer Retreat two years ago. It was the passage in Isaiah about doing new things and making streams in the desert. When I explained to her the process and the fact that Eric had just interviewed at General Dynamics in Arizona, she chuckled. God's quietest moments with us are more awesome than our flashiest.