Shooting Stars

I love shooting stars, falling stars. Call them what you may, I love when I can spot, or “catch” one. I used to commute between San Jose and Oakdale for several years and remember catching an occasional falling star on my late drives home. It was a particular tough time in my life and oddly, whenever I saw a shooting star, I was reminded of God and of His faithfulness, so very different from the transient star. That’s what they reminded me of then.

Years later, I remember seeing one the evening of my daughter’s wedding. I was sitting there during the ceremony under a beautifully clear night sky and saw one streak across the sky just above the gazebo where they were exchanging vows. I thought “God’s celebrating their marriage, too, with a sparkler!” I treasure that moment.

Whenever I come home in the evening, I spend a few minutes looking up at the stars, hoping to catch another shooting star. Any time I’m driving at night, I look for them. I love shooting stars.

I saw another shooting star the last morning we spent at Rancho Santa Marta. It was a long, trailing, shooting star, too. I was looking up at the stars just before I went into the women’s dorm to shower. It was early, about 5am, still dark, and I was standing there looking up, talking to God about the trip, about the people.

Let me start by saying Rancho Santa Marta is NOT an orphanage. It is a school for children with special needs. Many children come from the surrounding area. Of the 140 students that attend the school, approximately 40 live there and call the place home. The children living there stay in large houses with house parents who care for them.

Different church groups visit and help around the large ranch, building, repairing, tearing down to rebuild, and doing whatever needs doing. Medical/dental teams come in regularly to tend to the needs of the children. One group has been going down for ten years now, providing dental services to the children and staff. We don’t go there to bring the Gospel to these children. The teachers/house parents are doing that, living that out with these children. We go there to help the staff with the care of the ranch, so they are freed up to focus on the children.

I knew God wanted me to go on the trip, but I really wasn’t sure why. What did He want to show me? Why was I there? For whom was I there? Interestingly, I realized that it didn’t matter that I knew why. I was there, helping, sharing, loving, being a part; part of the body. I, the loner, the introvert, the one who prefers her time to herself, was there, part of the Body of Christ. And it was good; and I was thankful. It was Thanksgiving weekend, after all.

I was thanking him for all that had transpired over the long weekend, and then… there it was, a paradoxical reminder of his enduring faithfulness to us and to the children there at Santa Marta; a beautiful, trailing, shooting star.

That was over Thanksgiving weekend and it was a really good way to thank God for all He has done and is doing by our going, in the lives of the children, in the relationships we were allowed to build. Though brief, the time was well spent as we worked and played and prayed with the people there. I am thankful that I was able to go.

And so, here we are at the end of the year and I’m thinking of those beautiful children. They don’t have a lot, materially, but they are rich because of the people who live there and love and provide for them. I’m thinking of my friend’s daughter in China. We don’t know her yet, because she may not be born yet, but many of us pray for her and for my friend as she waits. I’m thinking of the two young girls I met a few days ago with no home, living on the streets with their mother. I provided a few days shelter for them, but now they’re gone, where I don’t know. I’m thinking of other children out there with no one to care for them. I also think of the children who aren’t there, the ones that should be there.

I follow Molly Piper’s blog. I grieved with her following the loss of her daughter at birth. I’ve followed her blog as she worked through the grief and in working through that grief she has helped many other women who have found themselves bereft in a similar heartbreaking way. Molly posted a couple of songs here and here on her blog and I downloaded and have been playing them quite a bit in the last few days. They’re not your usual standard fare Christmas songs. They may make you cry, but that’s ok. Some people are crying this season. I’m reminded of what Gandalf said to the young hobbits as he and Frodo were departing from the Grey Havens, “I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.” They can be good, cleansing, pain-relieving, joy-restoring.

It’s been another difficult year around the world. I think of the Arab Spring and the hope that has arisen amidst the great uncertainty and instability of that region. I think of the Japanese tsunami and the great loss. I remember being stunned as I watched the videos being released from the region. The devastation was numbing. I think of Occupy Wall Street and people wanting to be seen and heard because they didn’t think they were being seen and heard. It has been a mad, mad, mad, mad year, full of grief and despair, for young and old.

I really can’t offer much in the way of encouragement or comfort, either… other than this, and it isn’t even from me. I got it from Desiring God’s blog; their last post of the year. And it isn’t even from them, it’s one of Charles Spurgeon’s sermons. When I read it I knew I wanted to share it. It provided great comfort to this tired soul and I pray it provides comfort to yours.

It is certain, Christian, that you have nowhere else to rest. Of the whole of this time-state it was well said, “This is not your rest,” and of all the comfort that you find in earthly friendships and relationships, in the good things of this life, or in any hopes short of Heaven, we may truly say, “This is not your rest.” The other day, at Highgate, I passed some fine old trees that were marked with a white cross, to indicate, no doubt, that they were to be cut down. So, everything we have here is marked with the woodman’s cross and the axe must fell all our joys. You birds of paradise, build not your nests on trees that are marked to fall! This earth is not your rest! You shall fly the wide world over till your wings are weary, but, you doves of Christ, you shall find no rest till you come back to the hand of your Noah and nestle in His ark of Covenant Grace. “Rest in the Lord,” says the text, and in saying so it does, as it were, condemn all other pretended rests and fancied refuges! May everyone of you who have wandered hear the voice of Wisdom and may your hearts say, “Return unto your rest, O my Soul, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you!”

But though there is no rest to be found in earthly things, yet we may have rest even while here—rest which drops from above. Just as the wilderness yielded no bread to the children of Israel, yet there was bread for them in the wilderness, for it fell from Heaven! The arid sands could give no streams of cooling water, yet there was water even there, for
the Apostle Paul tells us that “they drank of that spiritual Rock that followed them: and that Rock was Christ.” Because I tell you that this world is a wilderness and you find it true, do not think that you are never to have any rest in it. Behold, your rest is sent to you from on high! Behold, your refreshment comes from the Rock of Ages! In Jesus you have
rest, even though you are pilgrims, and even though you are troubled, for we who have believed in Him, even now have entered into rest! True Christians, when they are in a healthy state of mind and heart, rest in the Lord and, as I hope this Tabernacle is not a leper house, but a place where the warriors of Christ have come to feast at the table of their great
Captain, I desire for each of you, and for myself, also, that all of us who are in Christ may this night have perfect “rest in the Lord.”

Read the entire sermon, "A Comforting Message for the Closing Year" (PDF).

I pray you find that rest. It is good.

I also pray blessings and peace for you all, for the coming year. Here’s to seeing shooting stars and may they remind us of God and His faithfulness through all the new year brings.