Last night, I spent a little time down the road at my sister Tabitha’s house. She retires early, so at about nine o’clock, I found myself walking down the road toward my parents’ home and my bed. As a child, I would be frightened of the lonely and dark walk. I must admit that even my adult self initially found the dark silence initially unnerving.
Soon, the crisp cool air filled my lungs and I began to sprint down the road. I don’t sprint often, but I just love running in the cool air. I lifted my face as I ran and was amazed by the brilliance of the stars. As I ran beneath the Milky Way, I was more and more struck by the immensity of the sky. Finally, I stopped to get a better look. I turned–taking in the stars and planets twinkling above me. As I gazed, the magnitude of what hung seemingly mere miles above my head weighed down upon me. Remember the scene in The Lord of the Rings where Frodo Baggins stands atop the hill and the Eye bears down upon him, searching for him? That’s how I felt, just without the dread and panic.
It’s ridiculously easy to forget about our place in the universe. Whether we are bustling to work or school or church or the grocery store or watching the news, these things become the parameters of our lives. Waterfalls, the stars, quiet talks, our Creator and thinking are left by the wayside. It’s easy to forget that there is a plan that works beyond us, that we are guided and loved on a greater scale than we can know.
I find it easy to let fear creep in and nestle in my heart. I forget. I forget that I really am a little Hobbit, running on a hilltop, beneath the Milky Way. My life is to love and be loved. To hope and live–not subsist-with those around me.
May we remember these things as we go about our day. I’m loving my time in the country. I hope you are blessed today.