While strolling the length of the verandah, I inevitably found myself staring up at the vast, dark night sky, bedazzled with sparkling stars. I could hear the wind gently rustling the leaves of the tree in the neighbour’s house and unconsciously I closed my eyes as the light breeze caressed my face. As I breathed in the cool night air, my eyes fixated on a lone star in one expanse of the sky, and it was like the star was winking at me. Faith is like that distant star in the universe.
The twinkling and sparkling night sky has always been a great friend to me. Somehow, just being out on the verandah, looking up at the enormity of the sky, along with the moon and the trillion occupants of the universe, is extremely reassuring. There are nights where these heavenly bodies choose to play peek-a-boo as the sky is enveloped in a blanket of darkness akin to the dementors rising from Azkaban. It is on those scary nights where there is no sign of beauty on the sky that faith is hard to find. Somehow, the shimmering of the stars always seems like a sign to me. For as long as I can remember, I used to follow stars on the journey home from my grandparent’s house. I watched it as if it was a companion, just coming along for the ride. As I grew older, I found enormous solace and comfort in the company of the stars. On nights where the stars chose to display themselves like fireworks going off in space, I felt as if God was talking to me, reassuring me of His presence and reminding me that He is the greatest of all listeners.
For as long as I can remember, few things have given me strength, encouragement and the motivation to move on with life like talking to the stars pretending as if I was the only human being left on earth and God was my only friend. I cried, I asked endless questions, I apologized and I expressed my sheer gratitude (which was seldom, if I might add with embarrassment). And those conversations worked better than any therapy or drug; it was during those long conversations that I firmly believed that my only friends were the stars and the moon and the night sky. And it worked like a charm every night.
The stars, when they were there and even when they were not, taught me more about myself and solved many a problems that others could barely fathom. Above all else, they taught me about faith. I have always believed myself to be more of a spiritual person rather than a religious one, and though I’m not proud of saying that I’m not strictly religious, I can’t accept that my spirituality won’t help me be the religious person I would like to be.
The stars have proven themselves to be great metaphors for my faith, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. If nothing else, they have proven to be the most patient and understanding audience I have ever known. And for that I am and will be, eternally grateful to my Creator.
Every Thing Under the Sun 