I stepped outside after washing dishes (that’s a lot of happy birthdays in soapy water) to the back porch. It had been a hot afternoon, the dry mountain air sucking us all into prunes. The cold night breeze was a welcome relief.

Habitually and unconsciously, my eyes traveled to the rectangle of black sky beyond the roof overhang.

Stars have been man’s companion since he was created to dwell in Eden’s garden. Beyond their beauty and companionship, Abraham found they signified God’s promises, His power and His faithfulness. I love that ancient challenge: “count them….if you can!!” There, above the tent dweller, the sky unmarred by electrical lights and airplanes and satellites, the sight, the sheer number, of those celestial bodies must have been beyond our imagination.

I looked up and there was Orion straight overhead. His belt and bow faithfully twinkling down every winter since I was a girl, since Job sat in grief, since Enoch was taken up. I was glad to see Orion. There were not many others to see. That, I suppose, is the grand difference between living in a small town and living in the last house down a country lane of a small village….a few trillion stars.

The fear of the last 48 hours slowly melted away. He’s still holding this whole world in His hand. The stars are still floating in their circuit. The tides are still flowing. The Creator of human bodies is still carrying every single one of our 7.8 billion frames of dust in His all powerful hand. His promises have not failed.

What time I am afraid, I will trust in You.

Psalm 56:3