The article below was written by my eldest daughter when she was 17 years old. Many appreciated it, and it is included here with her permission.
Often it is things that are closest to our hearts that we find hardest to reason out or define. Our attachment or bond is simply there- sometimes unacknowledged, perhaps even unnoticed, just enjoyed.
My love for stars is such a bond. In my mind I am aware that they are great balls of fire separated from me by an interminable distance of light years. Inn m heart, however, they are closer and infinitely dearer. Seeing their gentle and yet prevailing light in the dusk and then the darkest of nights reminds me of the calling of God to me as well as to every Christian woman. Perhaps this love for stars began when I learnt that my name in itself meant star. I can-not know why God chose that name for me, but if I accomplish in the lives of others half of what the stars, even if not of their own accord, have accomplished in mine, I will consider it to have been a life worth living.
I believe that through the years, stars have given hope and comfort when all else seemed useless. Perhaps when all he saw below was powerfully dark water, Noah looked up and was comforted by the twinkling stars. Per-haps on his 90th birthday, when he still had no offspring, Abraham looked up of the multitude of constellations and found hope. As David fled from the powerful royal army in a harsh desert plain, how those same stars, in the soft fading twilight must have spoken of sheer and God’s care. Centuries later, imagine the wise men standing in awe at the sight of the glorious star proclaiming the arrival of the long awaited messiah. Perhaps the stars wept with Je-sus at the Garden of Gethsemane and watched in horror and awe as the Son of God died for mere humans. And on that wonderful morning as the three women trudged up the hill with no hope, how the morning star must have danced with suppressed excitement at the unknown victory over death that she had witnessed.
To me the star is one of the most marvelous and wonderful of God’s creation. They are always there, and when I sit on the rooftop alone in the evening- when it’s just the swaying coconut fronds of the neighbor’s garden, the occasional bark of my dog, the soft glow of the moon, the stars, me and Jesus, it is a tiny glimpse of heaven.
Whether I cry or laugh in celebration, whether I mourn for stubborn sinfulness or sing for life renewed by the cross, the stars are always there, like constant beautiful promises from the king to His daughter. Promises of light in darkness, of hope in gloom, of perfect happiness in unrest and peace in discontent. Promises that soothe heal and start a song in the most disconso-late heart.
Somehow, I am certain that whatever my future career is, this is what I am called to be in the world. Unobtrusive, not garish, but a soft, constant, calming and bright being in a world of torment and tempestuous unrest. Not the source of hope in myself, for that is impossible, but merely a pointer, a reminder, of that greater light that redeems and purifies- a likeness as much as possible of Jesus- my master, king, and the commander of my loyalty and every affection.
And just like the morning comes with the sun, to whose greater light the stars bow in adoration, the Christ will come! A star will not reveal Him but the light of a thousand suns, and then glory! For I shall see Him and all will be perfect- as it was meant to be. The King will be enthroned in a Palace of gold and precious stones and His face will be as splendid as the noonday sun. The stars will gladly relinquish their long wait and dance in wonder and joy, while I join their ranks- another star in worship and adoration of her Creator.
By: Esther Hoole