Another stressful, exhausting day was finally over. Frustration and fatigue hung heavily over me, a combination of hassles with my cranky computer, a gloomy sky with drizzles and chilling winds, the exasperation of burning the chicken for dinner—and a dozen other everyday annoyances.
After dinner with the burnt chicken, I set out for a nearby park. My mom often says that “nature can soothe ruffled nerves like nothing else can,” and I decided to put her advice to the test.
I wandered through the park, half-expecting some “magic” to work itself on me. A discarded cigarette package crunched under my shoe, and some wilted flowers in a pot drooped wearily in front of me. A little farther ahead, a toddler was crying as his mother pushed his stroller, while behind me, a middle-aged couple was arguing. Sighing in disappointment, I turned toward home.
Perhaps it was a subconscious determination to find “nature’s magic” despite the unlovely surroundings, for as I turned to go, I paused and looked up at the pitch-black sky. It was such a cloudy evening that I didn’t expect to see any stars, but to my surprise, there was a little white star twinkling at me. It was the only visible star and it shone so brightly, as if rejoicing that I had finally noticed it. I suddenly realized how rarely I took time to really look at the sky. Why didn’t I gaze at it every day and savor its uplifting beauty? Why didn’t I let it remind me of the One who made it—and me?
As I admired the little white star, I was reminded of the opening lines of Psalm 19, which I memorized as a child: “The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship. Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make him known. They speak without a sound or word.”1 Perhaps, in their own way, the heavens are narrating the love story of our God who “richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment,”2 writes us love letters in the colorful ink of rainbows, sunrises, and sunsets—and winks at us in little white stars.
I lingered for a last look before starting home. There it shone, a sole light in the drab darkness. It didn’t matter that the other stars were obscured by air pollution and clouds or that on any other night my star might be obscured as well; I’d know the stars are still up there. And so it is with God’s love, I mused. It is constant and vibrant, even when struggles and doubts seem to shroud it. Nothing can snuff it out; it is always here, waiting to pierce the fog and shine into our lives. Now I know why nature soothes ruffled nerves: through its wonders, it whispers to us of our truest Lover and His eternal love.