Star Light, Star Bright

Photo courtesy of HubbleSite online

I shall see Him, but not now;

I shall behold Him, but not near.

A star shall rise out of Judah…

Number 24:17

I grew up in Phoenix, Arizona, where cloudy skies are a rare occurrence.  Every evening, the azure skies of daytime gave way to the blackness of night.  That palette of inky darkness was the perfect background for thousands upon thousands of twinkling stars – solo stars, comets, shooters, and fascinating constellations.  I can remember lying on my back on the front sidewalk, staring up into the brilliant night, repeating my favorite childhood verse:

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight,

I wish I may, I wish I might

Have the wish I wish tonight.

As I grew older, that sky became, for me, God’s gorgeous office.  Visiting hours were 24/7, there was never a time when He wasn’t “in,” and I could talk to him about anything and everything.  Grumble, rejoice, cry, yell – every emotional voice burst forth at one time or another, pouring out with complete confidence that my joy/misery/complaint was heard, and my honesty appreciated.  Picturing God in that vast dome (morning or evening) was and is my favorite way to pray.

During the Christmas season, I often think about the star that illuminated the birthplace of the Christ Child and eventually led the magi to Bethlehem.  Was it a new planet?  A specially created star?  Haley's Comet?  A huge grouping of brilliant angels?  Whatever made up its composition, it was used by God to announce to the world the birth of the Savior.