It’s 10:45PM on a school night. I’m not home. I’m 3 miles past the end of my driveway… going the wrong direction. I have an essay due in the morning. I have been awake for 20 hours. I have an early class. I am low on gasoline.
The blood-red glow of my car’s dashboard gauges diminished as I rotated the interior brightness indicator wheel. Everything turned pale blue. My hands were illuminated as they gripped the top of the steering wheel. Small, thin shadows were cast on and off throughout the inside of my Pontiac Grand Am. All around me were lights of varying size and brightness. Some clear, others only a blur.
I was taking the long way around a loop in my town, watching the countryside sweep by in the full moon-lit, star-ridden night sky. For the moment, nothing else needed to be on my mind than the open road in front of me. I was content. Procrastinating? Yes. Feeling guilty? Not even close.
It’s been an exhausting day, a long week, a hard month. Ah, the life of a college student is never dull. That feeling of being overwhelmed comes at the end of each day with the reality of knowing that the next day will be just like it. So, I seized the moment when I was not thinking such things. This came nearly 200 feet before I needed to make the turn into my driveway. But I did not press the brake, I accelerated. I saw my headlight reflection against my mailbox in a split second. The stars were pulling me away. Away from everything on my mind, schedule, and concern.
Stars seem so simple, yet so complex. They are simply there, but they are made up of something and are held in place by something… are they not (I know the answer)? Maybe that’s why I can gaze at them for hours every night and never be tired of the same routine.
Tonight, the stars pointed my focus back to what it needed to be on – my Creator. They always seem to have a way of doing that.
It’s 11:50PM on a school night. I’m home. I’m still awake. I haven’t finished my essay. I’m still low on gasoline.
But I’m ready to tackle tomorrow.