“How dare I ever think that I am ‘over’ any aspect of God or his creation? My emotions are fickle and fleeting. He is not.”
This line appeared in my journal somewhere around the beginning of our second week in Swaziland. Having the whole squad together for the month meant that we were sending a lot of time together as a large group, and quite often that was in the form of worship at least a few nights a week. Most of the time I loved it – singing is something I very much enjoy and it was great to be with everyone.
One night, however, I didn’t want any part of it. I can’t remember any particular reason why, but I just wasn’t into it. I am a highly emotional person – it’s a hard-wired part of my personality, but that night was different. I, who feel everything, felt absolutely nothing.
Being who I am, I find apathy quite disconcerting. I’m used to at least one emotion, whether or not it’s a desirable one. So I sat alone during worship and stewed in my irritation, listened to whoever shared their testimony that night, and left immediately afterwards. I decided I needed some space to think, so I ventured out to my favorite rock – this gigantic one that everyone hung out on during the day. There was an amazing view of the sky and the mountains, so I spent many hours here.
I was hoping to find some alone time. Instead I found Anna and Brittany, who were lying on the rock stargazing while worship music played quietly in the background. They noticed I was there and invited me over to sit by them, so I did.
The display of stars that covers the Swazi sky is perhaps one of the most amazing sights I’ve ever witnessed. You could see the Milky Way all the way to the horizon, and there were more stars than I had ever seen before. Every clear night I would try to sit outside for at least five minutes, in awe of the view. I love stars and nothing gives me more joy than an endless expanse of them.
Once again, I felt nothing. I looked up at the stars and thought to myself “Yeah, I’m over it.”
Anna and Brittany, however, were not so over it. They were absolutely captivated by these stars in the same way I was usually captivated. Then, we started looking for shooting stars. We had seen a few here and there – on those pristine nights you would likely see at least one – but it was more difficult for all three of us to see the same one, and trying to make that happen became a game of its own.
Anna was by far the best at it. She would usually be the first to see one, and seemed to have an instinct for where they would be. I did all right – if someone else warned me, I might turn my head in time to catch a glimpse. Other times, I could see one here and there. Brittany didn’t have our luck; often she would miss them by a nanosecond.
As the three of us lay sprawled out on the rock, we tried to figure out where the next one would be. We had seen maybe ten at this point between us. I mentioned that I had seen more of them on the right, but Anna insisted that she’d had better luck on the left. We all looked that direction, and seconds after the words left her mouth, there was a shooting star. Finally, we had all seen it, and it was so exciting. The pure, unadulterated glee amazed me, and by that time I was back to my normal state, admiring the stars with my entire being.
We stayed out there for another hour or so, listening to music and enjoying the view. One of the songs that came up on the playlist had lyrics that were certainly fitting to our setting:
“May we never lose our wonder… wide-eyed and mystified, may we be just like a child, staring at the beauty of our king. For you are beautiful in all your ways…”
I saw my king in those stars. Part of the reason why I love them so much is that they make me feel so small and yet so significant at the same time – the creator of this gigantic, detailed universe (that has no reason to exist except to bring him glory) knows and loves me. How crazy is that?
There is always something more to amaze me about God. Always. And I never want to lose my wonder, even when I feel like I have. There’s just too much to see.
