In Portland, you can’t really see the stars. We makes jokes about “seeing THE STAR.” I mean, you can usually see the planets, and the airplanes landing a mile away. It is usually cloudy, and when it is not, I strain my eyes to the sky. But you can’t see stars.
Tonight as I briskly walked home from Multnomah, I looked up at the trees, the ones that are a season behind and still have leafs clinging despite the frozen stillness. And when looked up into the sky, I saw the stars. Like more than one. More than just the planets, and satellites and airplanes. I saw stars. They were crisp and clear and in clusters, I could almost make out where the Milky Way was. I know I couldn’t actually see that … but all my nights of star dazing when at camp in eastern Oregon, it helps me imagine the map of the sky and know where it would be, could I actually see it.
The stars were brilliant in the cold air. They twinkled, and twinkled. Those little stars. I guess that is where the song came from? What was cool, was that the ground mirrored the sky. You know those National Geographic pictures of lakes that mirror a sunset or a mountain? It was like that. But no lake. No mountain. The ground was frozen. And on the ground, there were shinning, and shimmering drops of glory.
I heard a girl say today, that it is like the Lord covers the ground nightly with dew drop diamonds on every last leaflet. Ahh… Yes, that was exactly it. We were one degree below freezing tonight. And those little ice crystals just seemed to jump right out of the sky and onto that grassy lawn.
And I was singing this song. And these lyrics. And it was wonderful.
“Sometimes You're further than the moon
Sometimes You're closer than my skin”
That’s my God for you. Displaying a Tiffany’s just for me to enjoy on my walk home. And tonight, though I saw the moon, he was closer than my skin.
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