Look at the Stars and Remember

So everyone knows I love October. I would say up there with chocolate and Harry Potter, October is one of the things I mention most on this blog! I love the leaves in the streets, the cool weather, the pumpkins and scarecrows. But something I haven't thought about much are October nights. I love them just as much as October days! The chill in the air when we crack the window, the lights on the porches as the days grow shorter, the warm pjs and slippers (to be fair , that's an all day thing in my house...). And the stars. With the earlier nights, it's easier to step outside and look up before you would normally tumble into bed. And maybe I should start taking the time to notice.

Because for some reason, a stars theme keeps popping up in my life.

A few nights ago,I received a beautiful voice message of my niece singing "Consider the Stars" (by Keith and Kristyn Getty) and I just started crying. Hearing her sing "Consider the stars in the sky; When it is darkest they shine out the brightest, Consider the stars in the sky, In every anguish, Oh, child take courage." Something about the juxtaposition of her sweet childish voice and the great truths of Heaven spoke to me at the very heart of my being.

Then in my small group, we talked about Abraham. In Genesis 15:5, God says, "Look up at the sky and count the stars" and Abraham will be reminded of God's amazing - and seemingly impossible! - promise to him. But whenever Abraham doubts or forgets, all he has to do is look up and be reminded!

Even in the Mops theme for the year: We are the Starry Eyed! I love this picture of motherhood, because too often I feel like my eyes just look tired. But there's more to life than that, even a stay-at-home mom's life! Their website says, "Starry Eyed means looking for the light even when darkness is enveloping. It is an opportunity to hope recklessly and to witness God’s presence guiding things seen and unseen, comfortable and uncomfortable." Looking up at the sky and sensing the wonder, even in the ordinary. I love this theme because it reminds me that life is never just ordinary, never just mundane, never just hard. There is beauty and wonder and hope amidst it all!

Finally, I have been memorizing Psalm 8, "When I consider the heavens, the moon and the stars that you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him?" God is so majestic and beautiful and magnificent, why does He even bother with me? But he does. He sees me. Truly sees me, more than anyone ever has.

And isn't that what we all really want? Just to be truly seen. As an introvert and a person who will always choose being home over going out, sometimes I don't feel seen. People notice the fun people, the outgoing people, the beautiful people (or at least it feels that way to me). And I feel invisible.

But I can look at the stars and know the the Creator is actually looking back at me. And as I gaze out, I can remember these beautiful messages from Him: that He keeps His promises, that He has given me life and wants me to live it in wonder and awe, that He sees me.

So this October, don't just enjoy the days. Enjoy the nights. Look up and remember:

Do not be afraid

He who made all of this,

says “You're worth more than this,”

And holds you in his hands.*

*If you haven't listened to this song, go listen now! So sweet and poignant. Then teach a nearby child, because hearing a child sing it makes it all the more powerful. Consider the Stars, by Keith and Kristyn Getty.

This Old House

Ryan has mentioned moving again, and I feel his pain. His commute is over an hour each way and I know that's two hours a day that he is away from me and the kids. But I struggle with the thought of moving because I've grown to love our little house. I tell him if it weren't for his commute, I'd live in this house forever. You see, I look at it and see it's potential. Yes, it's sweet and comfortable and even attractive in some ways as it is now. But there are so many possibilities as to what this house could become! We could dormer out the upstairs back and/or front. We could add to the back. We could convert the garage to a great room and move the driveway behind the house. It could be roomier, cozier, and even more attractive with just a little work.

I was explaining all this to my dear friend, and telling her how grateful to God I am for the contentment I find in this house. It's so easy to see bigger and more beautiful houses and wish they were mine, but instead, I am grateful for what I have.

And then I had a flash of analogy: this is how God loves us! He sees our imperfections and our potential. He looks at us and sees what we could be with a little work. And He isn't going to move on to another project before finishing the work He has put into us. There are some things that need fixing or a little coat of paint and there are some things that need to be completely gutted and rebuilt. And He will do it all, lovingly, one step at a time. As long as we let Him.

Of course, the analogy is imperfect because while I whine and moan when I have to move the oldest dishwasher in the world to the sink to plug in the water or when I have to trudge down into the darkest parts of the basement with piles and piles of laundry, God doesn't complain about all the work He has to do in us when we are so stubborn. But it still gave me pause, and helped me to remember His great love for me.

And His continual work in me, especially in learning to stop whining about dishes and laundry.