Stars

The park I use for my morning time with Abba is flooded. Nothing alarming, the park is designed to flood when water is released from upstream dams in anticipation of heavy run-off from the rains we've had recently. Its annoying though because I have to find somewhere else to have quiet time.

I've found a spot that is barely suitable, its too close to Interstate 5 but it will do. Yesterday morning I was facing easward as the night sky gradually gave way to grey. At this time of year the sun does not peek over the Sierras until I am at work but day lightens the early morning sky. In trying to block out the noisy traffic I looked up and noticed the quarter moon with Venus nearby. I always find those two so close together something beautiful and yesterday was no exception.

It reminded me of something I wrote two years ago this past summer while camping alone in those Sierra mountains. I wonder how easily we get distracted from seeing the obvious things about us. Anyway, here is what I wrote a couple of years ago.

Stars
Saturday night I slept outside. While sitting with Abba the suggestion came. When I was a kid I slept outside all summer long. I'd move every week or so on our property, back porch, back yard, up by the pool; it was one of the joys of my childhood. I'd been re-visiting some of these years so when I remembered that joy, I though "Why not"? Whether the idea came from me or Abba, I'm not sure but I'm leaning towards Father, there was something in it for my heart. Anyway, my last glimpse before sleep overtook me was stars. I had a fairly unencumbered view of the sky towards the south and west with only a few tall night-darkened trees standing sentinel.

Stars. My mind had wandered around on them off and on that evening. They amaze me. I know a little astronomy - how to find the north star off the two outer stars of the big dipper's cup and if you follow the arc of the handle you come to Arcturus then down to Bootes. I can find a few zodiac signs and of course Orion and the Seven Sisters in the winter sky. That night I noticed one star that I could only see if I didn't look at it directly. This is more a function of my eyes, I have a small blind spot at my focal point, but the disappearing star amused me.

I then began to realize how little I do know about the night sky. Am I familiar enough with it that I would notice if anything was different? Apparently I am not alone in this complacency, this assumption that there are stars overhead. Some 2000 years ago only a handful of wisemen noticed something different in the sky. They understood the steadiness and rhythms well enough to know something was different. This difference compelled them to follow it. They knew it was a sign of something apparently missed by everyone else. There was no angelic appearance telling them "Go, follow the star". They simply knew something was wonderfully amiss. Have you ever wondered why they didn't pick up anyone along the way? I am sure others noticed the star but it must have been nothing but a minor curiosity in their normal day-to-day lives.

Paul tells us in Romans that nature speaks of the character of God. The wise men were familiar enough with the night sky to know something was different. Do I know the nature of God well enough to know when something new about Him has been revealed, a new "star" so to speak? Or do I let the blind spot in my eye get in the way and miss it?