Under the Stars

I remember one night, years ago, when my best friend Amy invited me over to her house to watch a meteor shower. We were kids, then--maybe early middle school or younger. We got blankets--not because it was cold, though. We stretched the blankets out on the driveway and reclined on our backs, hands behind our heads to watch the sky.

I remember it wasn't too cold to be lying on a driveway, but the breeze was cool enough that my friend and I huddled tight. Falling stars, one after the other, spilled over the sky. Crickets chirped, and wishes were made. Each star we saw shoot across the sky got its own wish, and we talked about our wishes. Sometimes in vague terms, since wishes are supposed to be secret, but other times, we figured that we were like sisters and close enough not to worry about that superstition.

I remember feeling small, but not suffocated or lost--no, small and amazed with the wonder of the vast creation surrounding me, my best friend, and her driveway.

Even if I don't recall how many falling stars I counted, or how old I was, or which wishes I made, or what Amy and I talked about, the emotional impressions of this memory is one of the strongest of my childhood, and it was one of my favorite moments.

Why? What was it about lying on my friend's driveway watching a meteor shower that affected me so deeply?

In The Sacred Romance, a book I'm using in a Bible study, the authors asked us to recall a favorite memory, like the one I outlined above, and really think about why we value it so much.

For me, I know that many of my favorite memories involve Amy--we are sisters in every sense of the word except blood, and she's one of the most important people in my life. In that moment, staring up at falling stars next to her on the ground, I felt connected to her. This memory is one of intimacy, which I tend to value. These moments--with anyone--are rare. We all have somewhere to be, our own troubles, but on scare moments--we connect.

Also, this was a moment where I saw beauty--falling stars on a cloudless night. Singing crickets, moonlight, cool wind. I saw beauty, and I caught a glimpse of the immensity of creation. I felt, even at such a young age, that God was speaking to me through the beauty of nature.

I hadn't planned to tell that story in Bible study, nor had I planned to offer the analogy that escaped my lips--and those are the best moments as a Bible study leader--moments when you know that your words are not your own.

God uses moments like this, watching the stars on the driveway with your best friend, to call to us. To pull on our hearts to an unknown romancing, to quote the book.

Jesus is the God of falling stars, but He also wants to be next to us on the driveway, listening to our wishes.