Star Sighting

This weekend I went camping in Big Sur with some dear friends. I was really looking forward to seeing all the stars up there in the clear, non-city-lighted sky. The last time I was up there it was really clear and so majestic. Needless to say, this time the sky was overcast and not a star was in sight. Obviously I still had a great time, but I went to bed a little sad that I had missed out on the rare opportunity to see what I consider to be one of the most magical sights in nature. I'm thankful that my knowledge of exactly what those twinkly little lights are hasn't lessened the impact of just how glorious the night sky is! It makes me think of the conversation that Timon and Pumba have in the Lion King--are they fireflies stuck in the big black thing, or large balls of gas and fire millions of miles away? I find that the answer doesn't really matter to me. Just like staring at the endless ocean stretched in front of me, seeing the star-filled sky inspires me to think of what is beyond, what is out there, and what is possible. It reminds me of the knowledge that God "determines the number of stars, and calls them each by name" (Psalm 147:3) It takes me out of my tiny little world, and reminds me of the vastness of space--which simultaneously delights and terrifies me!

That night, I woke up and couldn't sleep. I was restless and longing for some fresh air, so after about 40 minutes of debating I ventured out of my safe little tent into the middle of the night, despite all the little rustlings I could hear outside and the knowledge that the skunk who had run towards our fire only a few hours earlier was still out there, desperate for vengeance from the evil flashlight wielding humans. On my way back from the bathrooms (don't worry, it still counts as camping!) I happened to look up. I didn't have on my contacts, but I could still see the BILLIONS of stars, shining overhead. It was like a little gift. I stood outside my tent for a few minutes, enjoying the solitude of being alone in the dark, the only witness to the brief moment of a clear middle of the night sky.

The next morning it was completely cloudy again, as if it had never happened. And I couldn't help but think that if I hadn't forced myself out of my safe, cozy tent into the "dangerous" night, I would have missed out on all those stars...