"He determines the number of stars and calls them by name" (Psalm 147:4)
I'm back to traveling, and this evening, I was picked up at the Roanoke, VA airport, and we made the hour drive to Lexington in the dark. I could see the beautiful outline of rolling hills/mountains (so geography's not my strong point) as we wound through the Shenandoah Valley. Just when I thought that the hills were the highlight of the night, I looked up at the sky...and it took my breath away. In the secluded hills of Virginia, with no city lights to spoil the stars, I was laying eyes on a Mr. Moran sky.
Let me back up...from the time I attended sixth grade camp as a camper, to the three years I went as a counselor, I was sure that a star-filled sky was the most beautiful sight in the world (well...out of this world). You know, the kind of sky you only get in the country, or out at the lake, away from any buildings, street lights, or civilization. My last year at camp, a few months following Mr. Moran's death (my mentor and close friend), I felt sure that the starry sky each night was a gift from him because only my buddy knows how much I like them. So now...5 years later, I still get goosebumps every time I see the stars...or what I like to call a Mr. Moran Sky.
Love and Miss You All, xoxo
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