The sunrise fanned out over the horizon. I leaned over, looking out my side mirror to watch the sun fade below the trees. The view was worth my gentle drift into the next lane; my cluttered thoughts found calm as the sky darkened. These moments make me wish I had a camera in hand. They also make me keenly aware of the presence of God.
Maybe that is why I have found the sky, particularly the night sky, so captivating. To think that the same God that hung each star numbers my days. To think that I could still live life unsettled.
I am reminded of a moment a few years ago. It was late and the stars hung especially low for a late-summer night. Blinking fast to erase a tear, I looked up at the country sky. Mesmerized by the tiny dots, I traced the constellations in my mind as I softly whispered a hymn. They were so far away, but somehow, they made Him seem so close.
That bittersweet night is stained in my mind. I may have lost a close relationship, but I deepened another. When everyone else seemed far, my Savior has drawn close. In the quiet, I found His peace.
You may wonder why I so often write about what I see. I would encourage you to look at Jesus’ words in Luke 12:27, where He calls us to consider the wildflowers. Or to flip back to Matthew 6:26 and recall His care for the sparrows. Later, James calls us to ponder God “As the Father of Lights.”
All of Scripture is calling us to consider our God as He has revealed Himself. We see Him revealed fully in His Word, in which we find these precious assurances. Yet, much of His Word draws upon what we see of Him in creation, and I believe our understanding of these verses would grow if we looked around us.
On another starlit night a couple of months ago, my anxiety had become overwhelming. As a reprieve, my family had planned to take me to see Keith and Kristyn perform in our area. The concert was nestled between hospital visits and new treatments and worry. I was out of options and the crisp October days were nearly over.
As I had done on that summer years before, I passed the two-hour ride by gazing up.
A song I later heard spoke of the star’s debut, and the words have never left me.
He Who made all of this holds you in His hands.
There is no uncertainty in our God. The same voice that spoke the world into existence speaks to us through His word. The same hand that turns the seasons directs the seasons of our lives. Our future is just as purposed as the coming spring.
That is why I write about what I see. Of the seasons changing and the buds blooming and the sky turning. That is why I look outside for my words. Because the seasons reflect the care and strength of our God.
There is hope all around us. If only we would stop and consider.