I wash dishes in the darkened hut, a few small bulbs providing limited light for my task. Dirt under my feet, soapy water in between in my fingers as I scrub- I am clean and marred all at the same time. My youngest is already in bed, exhausted from another day of play in the village. I’m tired too, but there is work to be done.
My oldest daughter, the Joyful one, beckons me away from my job: “Mama, let’s go look at the stars.”
“Just a minute, baby, Mama’s almost done.”
I scrub harder, faster. I just want to finish the task, dry my hands and be done with the day’s work.
I find my way outside, guided by a three year old hand. We stand outside and look up, the two of us amazed at the black sky filled with the tiny, far away orbs of light. I see a reddish star. I make a mental note to look up why some stars look red when we get back to town.
My daughter, she’s been asking lots of questions lately; questions about God and where things come from and who made all these stars and trees and flowers.
“Mama, who made the stars?”
“Jesus did, baby.”
“Because He likes to make beautiful things.”
We sit in a few more moments of silence.
“Mama, Jesus must be God.”
Truth shines bright and star-like. My child, this little girl, somehow knows that everything was made by Him and for Him and that He’s holding it all together. It doesn’t take much for a child to believe.
Christ is the visible image of the invisible God.
He existed before anything was created and
is supreme over all creation.
For through him God created everything
in the heavenly realms and on earth.
He made the things we can see
and the things we can’t see…
Everything was created through him and for him.
He existed before anything else,
and he holds creation together.
He holds the night sky and stars in His hands; this jungle village and the coconut trees.
He’s holding me together too. When I’ve got mud on my feet and doubt in my heart; when I forget that He made me for Himself and reconciled me with God. When I pour myself into task, when the to-dos seem endless and exhausting. When I scrub dirt-stained laundry in rivers. All this work.
How do I find intimacy with Him when I feel so exhausted?
Because I keep scrubbing everything, but the duties just keep regenerating day after day.
But tonight I look at the stars and I remember; everything gets clear again. The tiny spheres of light shine through me and I find Him. Jesus must be God.
And I remember the sneaking glances with God between dishes and kids yelling and me yelling. The gratitude songs sung as I wring out wet clothes. The pink petals that my girls pick off the jungle trees every day that magically and wonderfully grow back over night. The grace that comes in the morning breeze.
Jesus must be God. The Keeper of the stars and my heart.
And I know there are moments to lay the sponge down and look at the stars, but I think I need to remember too that He’s with me in the duties too, that the Son star shines bright during long days full of chores and mothering.
We linger awhile in the holy moment, my daughter and I. I let the revelation sink in once again: He’s holding it all together. Christ, the fullness of God, He’s holding you, Erin. He fashioned sky and stars and me. Jesus must be God.