On Balls of Gas...

So the stars are out tonight... kinda.

I'm amazed at how, even in our 3D, hyperactive, image driven, smell-o-vision, now available in high definition culture, the stars are able to not only catch our attention, but grab it. Hold it. When I look at the stars, I can't help but think. It doesn't matter what I think about, I just think. And I imagine that's the way it's always been.

I'll spare you the references to ancient history, the Greeks, the Romans, etc, etc, etc. But everyone has looked at the stars and thought. Its this force that manages to touch that ticklish part of our hearts. That part where dreams and crazy thoughts hide, abide and grow strong. Its like we know that if its possible for these lights to just hang there, free of glue and nails, then maybe anything really is possible. The unconditional Love of Christ. Half off everything at Best Buy. My finding True Love. A Chicago Cubs World Series Game 7 Win.

Maybe its something else. Maybe its that I look at all of those stars and as I start to count them I realize there's more than I ever begin to numerate. There's something scary about the realization that infinitely, the closer I look, the more there are.

Its like the time when my brother and I had a water balloon fight in our front yard. (it was great so anti-climactic at the beginning because we only had one faucet that could fill the balloons, so we'd have to take turns using it... looking at each other... giggling... okay me giggling, while my brother would frown in frustration and wonder what I was so excited about... "We get wet all the time Neil") Immediately after discovering what we had done, my Mom gave us a stern speech on "loving Mother earth" when she realized we hadn't picked up every piece of shattered water balloon. As we started to search the yard, we would notice the big pieces with the knot at the end easily. But when we bent down to grab those pieces, we'd notice smaller pieces, then slivers off of those pieces, then we'd notice other things like tootsie roll wrappers, the parts of the icee-slid-up popsicles that you bite off and spit out, tons of little things. Before of you knew it, you'd have a handful of stuff and only a small part of the yard had been searched. A genuine feeling of fear and panic would arise and make me promise never to throw another water balloon. At least not until we could go to Ryan Muegge's house. His mom'd let us do anything.

Sigh... exhausting analogy.

But back to my point. When I look at a sky full of stars, I the idea of complete insignificance coming from comparison [of me and it] collides with knowing that there's a God out there who, in fact, made this all for me. Yeah sure, he made it for everyone else too, but c'mon, I love the notion that he made it so that he and I could share the notion I'm having right now. He wants me and him to share inside jokes.

When I'm laying on the crest of a hill on a blanket staring up at the stars, my peripheral view doesn't allow me to see the horizon so all I can see is Sky. Navy-blue-black sky with dots here and there. If the air is right, its like I'm floating. Its one of the rare times I like to be alone.

Its a strange thing to gaze upon something and know its the closest you'll ever come to viewing infinity. Sometimes its just too much for the mind to process and I am truly full of awe.

If you have a spare night, do what I did tonight and drive up I-35 for 20 minutes to exit 353 (TX 2114 East), and drive for another 5 (if you go 1.7 miles, there'll be a road on your left called "Mechell"), go for another mile and you'll be on the top of a hill. Get out and sit on the hood of the chariot that got you there. Enjoy.

There's minutes wasted, but a piece of mind to be gained.