children, Constellations, Galaxy, Inspiration, Memories, motherhood, Night Sky, Parenthood, Stars, Universe
Star Gazing With LucySunday, October 23, 2016
Tonight, we went outside to light our freshly carved pumpkins (Teddy’s was not so “fresh” since his was rotten on the inside). Lucy, my little light bringer, looked up and noticed the night sky was clear and full of stars. “I want to stay out here and watch the stars, mommy,” she told me. I said no…that it was a little chilly…and we needed to get ready for bed. Lucy didn’t listen so well, because she rushed inside, grabbed a flannel blanket and went back to set on the front steps and stare up at the sky.
It took me less than five minutes before I decided that brother and sister were content inside and that I could be making a memory with Lucy. I grabbed my own blanket and went outside, encouraging her to come lay down in the grass with me. We lay side-by-side in the front yard, right where passing cars could see. Didn’t matter…
Lucy chatted non-stop, pointing out constellations that I couldn’t see. We marveled at how more stars came out in the night sky as our eyes focused and adjusted. Suddenly, it wasn’t only a handful of bright lights tossed into the sky. We could now see thousands of less bright, but sparkling none-the-less stars everywhere—a beautiful twinkling dome in the sky sheltering us.
I wondered how many people were pausing to look into the sky tonight. Did everyone else notice the clear sky…or the way the sky isn’t actually black, as Lucy pointed out? “It’s a dark blue,” she explained. “It has a touch of black in it, but it isn’t black like everyone paints it.”
“The sky looks like a mirror that is a little foggy,” I said. “Like…if we could wipe it with a cloth, the stars would shine brighter and we could see thousands more.”
“Yeah…” Lucy breathed. "Do you see the big dipper?"
I did not.
If you just looked…and looked…and looked at just one single star in the sky, it wasn’t simply white anymore; there were little pops of color like blue and red that flickered far, far away.
After a while, Roger pulled in the driveway from work and came to lay down beside us. He pointed out the splash of light color that ran diagonally across the sky. “See the milky way,” he asked.
It might seem silly, but I couldn’t get over how very small I felt in my little town, laying in my front lawn beside my husband and my daughter. I felt like I was laying on a table, and if someone tipped it over, I could plummet out into the vast darkness and float away with the stars. There is so much more to life here. There is an entire solar system--a beautiful and dazzling galaxy that we are simply lucky to be part of. And there is a purpose in all of it. None of it is mysterious or surprising to the One who breathed it all to life.
In that moment, I wasn’t as small as I felt. Because somewhere out there…or maybe, actually, right there beside me, was a Father—a Creator—The Maker who knew my name and loved me without bounds and with depth unimaginable.
As Lucy prattled on and on…
I felt very much cradled and protected under that dome of endless night and light…and space without boundaries.
"I could look at the night sky forever, mommy."
Me too, baby girl.
“Lift up your eyes on high And see who has created these stars, The One who leads forth their host by number, He calls them all by name; Because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power, Not one of them is missing.” ~Isaiah 40:26