Thankfulness, Day 9

This weekend I spoke at our ladies' retreat for church.  The preparation and being out of town has put me behind here.

Our ladies' retreat this year was in Hiawatha, KS at an establishment that has a grouping of cabins next to a pond and a rustic, lodge-styled restaurant.  It's away from the highway and the small town of Hiawatha a bit, so that by-and-large the only lights in the area are those of the restaurant and overlooking the parking lot.  Our main meeting area was beneath the restaurant in their meeting room, but my cabin was a few hundred feet away.  I had occasion to run back to my cabin quickly for something (even now I forget what it was or why I did it).  I'm so grateful I did.

The sky was clear Friday night.  Across the great expanse of pure black (the lights from the restaurant overpowering that deep, deep blue you might see in the night sky when there is no light around) was only a dotting of a few stars.  I might have liked to see the great expanse of stars that look like scattered crumbs of light when no light pollution is present.  However, the stars that were out shone bright.  Living in town as I do, I don't really see any stars at night; it's incredibly rare.  I had to come home to look up the constellations I saw.  I knew Orion, with his familiar belt; once you see that, you can then make out his shoulders and his bow.  The other, Auriga, with the addition of what apparently was Jupiter shining brightly, could have passed for the Big Dipper.  I could just barely make out the Little Dipper (or Ursa Minor) towards the northern horizon.  It thrilled me to see those stars and be reminded of the beauty of God's creation.  I wished Eliza were with me, as her eyes are often turned upward when outside.  Sometime at Christmas, we'll have to take her outside to see the Christmas lights on my parent's house, but then to turn them off and let her see the night sky as long as the cold will let us stay outside.  But I'm grateful for that moment out under the stars, admiring the creation the God has made and its inherent loveliness.  And the reminder that I need to teach  my daughter to not only appreciate it, but appreciate the One who made it.