Last night about this time I was situating my hammock in the backyard so I'd be ready to take in the Perseid meteor shower.
From midnight to 2, I laid in my hammock and waited patiently for falling stars. In those two hours I saw six really good ones. Each time I squealed with glee like a little kid, pointed at the part of the sky where they appeared and then I cheered, like it was the 4th of July.
I can imagine I looked pretty silly out there. I was the only person watching. None of my neighbors were out looking for meteors. The dogs that live behind me were all passed out in their yard. It was just me pointing and shouting at the night sky in Old Hickory Village.
But I wasn't alone. Because anytime I look at the night sky and its enormity, I feel God. As if in that terrific expanse of outer space where God is sovereign, he is still as close enough to help a puny little me on the earth. And I think God was there with me, hearing my cheers for the meteors, and maybe he even said, "Thanks!"
There was joy in seeing a few meteors, even though all the predictions told me that I would see more falling stars than I did. I tried not to be too disappointed in only seeing six. I remember being underwhelmed and overwhelmed at seeing Saturn through the giant telescope at Griffith Observatory in L.A. Read my original blog post here: [Seeing Saturn] With the meteors, I had to remind myself that I was still in the city, with extra light pouring into the sky. I might have seen more meteors zipping through the sky but they were drown out by the light and the ones I did see were like gifts. They made me cheer. And I think God was pleased.