The Shooting Star
I didn’t want the big front window in the bedroom of the camper. It seemed ridiculous to have so much window in a room that is meant for privacy. But Ron wanted it. My farm-boy husband wanted to lay on his pillow at night, with the shade pulled up and star gaze through the big concave window at the head of the bed. Who was I to argue? So we ordered the camper with the front bedroom and the big window.
It had been three weeks since we started living in our camper. We were starting our journey of full-time RVing. The big bedroom window rarely had its shade up in those three weeks. But one night, as a goodwill gesture for my hubby, I asked him to pull up the shade once we were snuggled into bed. I had trouble getting to sleep, so while Ron gently snored, I laid there staring at the stars. I tapped his shoulder to wake him and ask him to join me but he mumbled that he would later. When the train came through with its loud whistle, I was certain he would awaken but he was quite content to keep snoring!
“He owns the cattle on a thousand hills. . . I know that He will care for me,” had taken up residence in my mind earlier in the day. Now, I was rehearsing the day’s events, praying for my friends, and thanking God for His blessings. As I lay there, gazing into the clear night, it seemed as if someone had spilled a bottle of bright blue-white sparkles across the heavens. I thought to myself, “Someone did.” As I gazed at the beauty of the night sky, I said in a loud whisper, “Just think, God knows every one of those stars by name.” Within ten seconds of me saying that, a shooting star crossed the horizon like the line under a signature emphasizing the power and authority of its name.
“Honey! Honey!” I gasped, “I just saw a shooting star!”
I told him my story, and he listened patiently, mumbled a few appropriate words and was contentedly snoring again.
I laid there, reveling in the moment. Spellbound. Reveling in the majesty of the One who cares enough for me to write His name in the sky with a gazillion stars and underline His signature when I acknowledge His name. I laid there wondering if I should break the moment by getting up and writing down the words that were already composing the scene in my mind. What beauty! What splendor! What majesty!
I don’t think I’d ever felt so close to, or so sure of, my belief in God as I did that night.
I got up and wrote what I had seen and felt. Then I headed back to bed for some more star-gazing, and to thank God for my hubby who wanted that ridiculous big window in the bedroom.