26 Lift up your eyes on high and see:
who created these?
He who brings out their host by number,
calling them all by name;
by the greatness of his might
and because he is strong in power,
not one is missing. – Isaiah 40:26
Falling Stars
I walked to my ladder stand in the dark of the morning without the aid of a flashlight (didn’t want to advertise my presence to the deer). I quietly climbed up into my stand and nestled against the tree where I would patiently await the rising of the sun. Sitting in a tree stand in the early morning darkness gives a person time to reflect (which is certainly safer than falling asleep).
Before my mind could even begin jumping from one thought to another, a flash of light to my left caught my attention. As I turned my head toward the light I witnessed the beauty of a falling star. Before it even had time to properly announce it’s arrival, it disappeared! Awed by the brilliance of the streak of light, a pang of sadness touched my soul. A pang that was spontaneous, but real none the less.
The falling star immediately brought to remembrance the passage quoted above. Despite the fact that the sky seems to be filled with a countless multitude of stars, our Creator placed them all in the sky and calls them all by name. Even though what we term a falling star is in reality a meteor flashing across the sky, my heart was saddened by the thought that one of God’s stars would be missing from His evening roll call. Although it would not take long for my mind to correct my heart, my heart’s response planted numerous seeds for my mind to reflect upon.
Grandpa’s Grin
I walked into the back of church by myself at the ripe old age of ten. As I surveyed the best pews at the back of church for a prime seat, I saw my Grandfather sitting by himself. Immediately, I knew where I was going to park myself for Mass. As I slipped into “Grandpa’s” pew, a big grin took over his previously somber face.
My Grandfather had recently joined the ranks of widower, and like most who have lost a spouse of 50+ years, he was trying to find his “place” in life adjusting to his new normal. Apparently my presence was a temporary balm for his pain and sorrow. Before there was time for the grin to absolve from his countenance, he put his large hand into his front pocket and pulled out a quarter, which he promptly deposited into my tiny hand. Out of love for my Grandpa I would have sat with him for free, but what ten year old declines a quarter (keeping in mind the time value of money and this was 1975).
As a young boy, I didn’t realize the significance of the moment. My Grandpa was so proud that I sat with him that he later told my parents how touched he was that I would choose to sit with him as opposed to my friends. A lonely old man’s heart was touched by the attention of a young boy. A young boy who would never again have the opportunity to touch his Grandpa’s heart and put a grin on his face. Shortly afterwards, my Grandfather died of a heart attack. A falling star of eighty three years who would never again pay pew rent.
Screaming Sirens
I rolled down the window to make small talk with my classmate and childhood best friend Jimmy. It was June of 1983 and along with some of my other recently graduated classmates, we had just arrived back into town after taking in a movie. Seeing another group of classmates we decided to pull over to talk with them as they were standing around a car reminiscing. With high school in the rear view mirror, we were enjoying our “last” summer together before going away to our different colleges. For Jimmy, it was a chance to pursue college football on a full scholarship.
It was just after midnight when I said goodbye to Jimmy, as our car full of guys left to return to my house for some late night euchre. Although we played a lot of cards during our school years, including in our classes, it was a little unusual to play so late into the night (or early morning). I suppose we all recognized that since we would soon be going our different ways, we were all a little reluctant to “let go” of the past. But all good things must come to an end. Or so we are told.
I believe it was between two or three in the morning before we finally decided to throw in the cards and call it a night. As we did so, some emergency vehicles raced by my parent’s house with their screaming sirens penetrating an otherwise still and quiet spring night/morning. Little did I know as I finally settled into my bed that I would never again see my buddy Jimmy. He was killed in a auto accident shortly after I said goodbye to him. And it was for him the sirens were screaming. A falling star of 19 years who would never grace the college grid iron.
Last Message
For me it was a morning full of listening to theological questions and Biblical interpretations as a fellow Pastor was seeking ordination. For my wife, it was a morning full of sorrow and uncertainty. During a morning “intermission”, word had gotten to me that my mother-in-law, Janet, had been involved in a bicycle accident.
That was all I knew.
A few hours later, a telephone message was finally relayed to me that the family was to meet with a neurosurgeon. Now I knew the accident was extremely serious. Immediately, along with the other two Pastors I was serving with, we jumped into the church van and made our way across Lansing to be with my in-laws at the Hospital.
When they opened the door to the family waiting room, it was immediately evident just how serious the situation was. The teary eyes and anxious looks told the story. How could I know that the morning theological questions would give way to a “test” of Faith?
When I got home that night, there was a message on our answering machine. It was a message from Janet left early in the morning, probably just moments before she got on her bike. Being the servant that she was, she had plans to go into Lansing to do some shopping and wanted to know if we needed for her to pick up anything for us. Not wanting my wife to be “disturbed” by hearing her mothers voice on the recording, I foolishly deleted it. If only I could see into the future.
After having brain surgery, my mother in law would pass over the river of death six days later without ever again regaining consciousness. A falling star of fifty-nine years never again to offer an encouraging word or write an encouraging letter.
Missing Child
As I write this, it is Sunday, February 14th. Valentines day 2021. In five days, our family will celebrate our youngest daughter’s eleventh birthday, but unfortunately, our daughter will not be with us to enjoy the meal and the cake. Born extremely prematurely, she died of complications related to her lack of “development”. A falling star of 37 days whose light was barely given a chance to grace the night sky.
As I sat in my ladder stand reflecting on the falling star, I was keenly reminded of the fact that we are all falling stars. Whether we live thirty-seven days or eighty-three years, in the grand scheme of things we are as short lived as the light of the falling star trekking across the dark sky.
I couldn’t help but wonder, what are we doing with the brief time we have? In a dark and desperate world are we reflecting the light and love of Christ? What are we doing to build into the lives of those God puts in our lives?
Star Lessons
We would be wise to heed Isaiah’s admonition. It is healthy for us to lift up our eyes and ponder the stars. Not because of their inherent brilliance, but because of the Creator they point us to. A Creator so powerful and majestic that He alone hung the stars in place. A Creator so loving that He calls them each by name. A Creator so faithful, that He will make sure none is missing.
During our short lives on earth, God will place a lot of “falling stars” in our orbit. Family members and friends we will love and relate with. In varying degrees He will interweave them into the tapestry of our lives. Hence, when they fall from the sky our hearts are touched with more than a pang of sorrow. Part of our heart is torn from us with the loss of each loved one. But lift your weary eyes and see.
Our loved ones in Christ are not gone, they are in Heaven with the star Maker. They are in the eternal Home of their Father. Some day, when our time to shine has faded, we will join them. There will be no somber faces or sorrow, nor good-byes and screaming sirens. There will be no accidents or last messages, nor will there be any empty seats at the table. Instead, God will give us each a new name, and when the roll is called, not one of His Children will be missing.
“By the greatness of His might, and because He is strong in power.” And because of His perfect infinite love.
9 After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, 10 and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” – Revelation 7:9-10
Thanks Scott!