Stars and Satellites

This morning, I came downstairs at 4:55a.m. The lasagna that we made last night was still on the counter, and after quickly storing it into the fridge and crossing my fingers that we wouldn't die by food poisoning (and changing my plans to drop that off with Sunny and Calvin and their baby), I went outside to breathe in the crisp morning air.

The crescent moon and an array of stars greeted me. 

Soon, satellites streaming across the sky captured my attention as well. One after another, the bright lights paraded methodically, in a silent march from one end of the sky to the other, always moving in the same direction. Not five minutes can pass without one of these speedy lights hurtling through the morning sky. 

Meanwhile, the moon and the twinkling stars held their gaze, unwavering in their resolve to remind me of the constancy of certain things.

This week begins a new season: for the first time in five years, no readings, essays, or final projects. I wish that I could define with more clarity what Fuller has been about, but unlike my previous schooling experiences, this process has felt less focused, more expansive, exhausting, and a bit like checking off a box, which I don't typically enjoy doing. Working at SFLC, taking a huge step back from church ministry, while also keeping a pulse on academic work have led to a confusing re-shifting of my center of gravity. 

Perhaps that's why stars and satellites captured my attention this morning. In the midst of change, what will remain constant? How has God been faithful through it all? How have I been faithful (or not)? Where does God intend to lead me/us?