Tuesday, August 01, 2006


Tonight I spent time with one of my oldest, dearest friends Sara. As is custom, we spent part of our time at the piano singing and sharing songs with each other and laughing. At the end of the night, we started to go to the car (though I only live a block away from her) and quickly made a detour to take a walk around the quiet suburban streets. We've both been on these streets so many times in our 20-something years, often together, finding adventures and mischief. Tonight was no exception. As we walked, we both realized how long it had been since we had simply done that very thing...walked in the wee hours of the morning just for the sake of walking.

The night was perfectly clear. It was a new moon. A gentle breeze rustled through the tree tops. We walked several blocks, skipping and spinning and taking in the absolute beauty of the night. And at that moment, we both felt so surrounded by God. We started back down my street, still several blocks from home. And it was then that I saw it...a shooting star, perfectly brief and serene. It took my breath away. We decided to lay down in the center of the road (it's a small town, no cars were around.) We giggled as we were reminded of a scene from The Notebook.

And we waited patiently for more shooting stars. And they came. One...but she thought it was her imagination. Then another, and we both saw it. It seemed even more special that we'd seen it together. We must have laid there for a half an hour, talking about the constellations and how fast the earth is spinning and the atmosphere and what happenes when cosmic dust enters the atmosphere and burns up...and reminiscing about our childhoods. At one point I said, "You know, I have been in this very spot so many times, but I've never looked up just to see the sky for the stars." It was such a good thing just to be still.

What amazed me most was that the longer we started at the sky, the more we noticed. The sheer magnitude of the stars, the way the sky didn't look flat at all but truly spherical, the shadows the trees cast, the absence of the moon. The longer we were still, the more the night came alive. No man could have made such a thing come into being...no busyness or handiwork or words or wishes. But with just a few simple words, the God of all creation spoke this beauty into being. And yet He is still mindful of me, an impossibly small speck on the face of a sphere that bides it time spinning in circles. And even more, He is jealously in love with me, sacrificing all just to reach me. And I am left asking myself how I could ever be lax in pursuit of or response to Him.

Sometimes the stillness is what is needed to capture our attention...and that is truly the way I believe it is intended to be.



Blogger *The Blogstar said...

Rachel. Thanks for the love with the article. I've had a couple people tell me they read it.

If there are any future articles, I can get you a little blurb about me. They should've had that from one they did a couple of years ago, but no biggie.

I wish you well.

Did you hear about IKON's future?

8:26 PM  
Blogger Rachel said...

Actually, I can put the blurb in at any time...let me know what you want it to say.

And no, I haven't heard about IKON's future. Enlighten me?


10:52 PM  
Blogger *The Blogstar said...

Do this blurb if you don't mind...

"Chad Jarnagin is an artist, songwriter, and lead worshiper living in Franklin, TN. Find him at www.chadjarnagin.com or www.theblogstar.com."

Hope that is cool.

Next TUES is the last IKON....go to the IKON Blog to read more. It's all good. Moving on.


10:55 PM  

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