stars among the black

As a night owl disciplining myself for the day, I was pleasantly surprised that the majority of the Black Friday shopping began at 12am this year. Is this commercialism at its worst? Yes. However, I was able to justify my midnight meandering...you know, since I would have been up anyway.

True story: when I was in college, I used to attend the early morning madness for no better reason than to "people watch." I'd find three or four CDs that were knocked under ten dollars, then wait in line for hours to save mere pennies. This ceased to do anything for me during my mid-twenties; during my barista years, I spent Black Friday in a methodical trance: grind, tamp, pull, steam, pour, "Thank you," rinse, grind, tamp, pull, steam, pour, "Thank you," rinse, grind, tamp...

[With the exception of the occasional, "Awwww...he made a leaf in my coffee!"]

Last evening was the first time in roughly ten years that I joined the chaos. I needed new jeans more than anything -- since I still refuse to pay more than $20 for a pair, I waited an hour at Old Navy to buy the only three existing pairs of straight-legged 32-30s and grabbed two pairs of cords while in line. All were half price, and as I already stated: I would have been up anyway!

As the weather gets chilly in Northern Indiana, the sky typically transitions into a perpetual state of overcast on account of the lake. These past two evenings have been uncharacteristically clear, with vibrant stars hanging over our world in magnificent display. Ursa Major points its way towards the North Star to my east; I peer right and see the brilliance of the planet Jupiter.

Over 1300 Earths would be required to fill the volume of Jupiter -- it's surface area is over 120 times the size of our terrain. It is the brightest star of the evening, but from this distance I can easily pinch its area between my thumb and index finger. Even with its might, Jupiter pales in comparison to the reach of God's full creation.

Because everyone in my circle has been talking about faith, I am reminded of the blessing the Lord bestowed on Abraham. After Abraham willingly places his son Isaac on the altar, the angel of the Lord tells him:

"I swear by myself, declares the Lord, that because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies, and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me." (Genesis 22:16-18)

Bear in mind, Abraham's faith was not contingent on knowing that this was the payoff. His only hope and reassurance was in a single piece of truth: the same God who has created this vast universe will provide the sacrifice. I consider the desires that He has placed on my heart, and they feel so far away. When I acknowledge that there's only one wonderful thing on earth that I lack, it pains me to place it on the altar. God doesn't ask for my money, my career, my location, or my social interests. He knows that these are His. God is jealous for my intimacy because it is the only human thing I value.

Do I trust that the creator of Jupiter, the Big Dipper, and the North Star has provided the sacrifice with my intimacy on the altar? Do I believe that the piece of my heart I've held back for a woman would be honored in His hands instead? Provision has been such a tricky animal; He's offered me just enough to remain in Him, little enough that I continually yearn for heaven. This is indicative of His grace. But I can't help but wonder: if I trusted Him to provide for every need, wouldn't I give Him the last of me?