Majestic Revelation

The mother of a girlhood friend died yesterday. This post, first written in 2014, tells of a sleepover at their house. This woman and I reconnected because of these Whispers. I republish this story in memory of her. Mrs. S is now with the LORD. Praise God that we can grieve with HOPE.

Growing up there were only a few opportunities for sleepovers.
There was one that I remember vividly.
The sleepover took place up the street from my house.
It included the neighborhood girls.

I remember having to borrow a sleeping bag.
I brought my pillow, my toothbrush, and my pajamas.
There was talk about telling scary stories before we went to sleep.
The thought of that did not thrill me.

If I had only known the children’s book, Ira Sleeps Over by Bernard Waber.
It hadn’t been published yet, but it would have been so helpful.
It dealt with a little boy who was asked to sleep over his friend’s house.
Ira was excited until his sister asked him question, Are you bringing your teddy bear?

Ira wanted to save face and didn’t want his friend to know that he slept with a teddy bear.
It is a charming story, which deals with how Ira solved his problem.
Seeing friends outside and going to school with them was one thing.
But sleeping over, on the floor, in a sleeping bag was uncharted territory for me.

I went to the sleepover a bit reluctant about the scary stories.
I went to the sleepover a bit reluctant about sleeping in a strange place.
I went to the sleepover knowing it was in a house I had been to many times before.
I went to the sleepover wondering if we would even sleep at all.

When I got to the house, most of the girls had claimed their spot on the floor.
I put my things in a small available space near the front window.
I saw a large box on the floor.
It had my name on it: Regina.

I wondered why there would be a large box with my name on it on their floor.
I never said a thing or asked anyone about it.
The night wore on, we all changed into our pajamas.
We got inside our sleeping bags.

Scary stories were about to begin.
The soft voice of the storyteller grew more intense as the story went on.
Everyone waited for the climax of the story; the moment when everyone screamed.
Everyone screamed without knowing why, and then the laughter took over.

My eye was still on the box with my name prominently on the front.
I wondered when it would be revealed.
We went to sleep, we woke up, and we had breakfast.
It was as if the box was invisible to everybody else but me.

Finally, I had to tactfully ask about the box.
What is in that big box? I asked as nonchalant as I knew how.
A vacuum cleaner, was the reply.
Why would I need a vacuum cleaner?

Through context clues I got my answer.
The dad in that house worked for the Regina Vacuum Company.
The vacuum was one of the models he sold.
The box wasn’t for me at all.

It wasn’t at all about me.
I felt embarrassed that I even entertained such a thought.
It made no sense, but the box did have my name on it.
I was so sure.

I went to another sleepover years later.
This time a friend of mine was involved in 4-H and invited me to go with her group.
We all went to a cabin in the mountains.
We had to dress warmly, welcoming fuzzy socks and warm sleeping bags.

I remember that it was a cold, crisp, fall night.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
We all went outside.
My friend told me to look up.

I had never seen such beauty.
Every star was visible in the night sky.
It reminded me of the connect the dots books I used to love as a girl.
I could use my finger to trace an imaginary line from star to star.

There were no words that could adequately convey the beauty I saw before me.
I felt so small as I stood under the vast expanse of the night sky.
At that moment, I witnessed the majesty of God.
I have never forgotten the awesome beauty that surrounded me that night.

It was not all about me.
It was all about Him.
The Creator of such beauty.
Beauty that proclaimed His Glory.

There were no fireworks.
There was no fanfare.
There was no play-by-play announcement of the stars in their constellations.
The stars just shone, declaring His Glory.

Under that night sky there was no room for self.
Under that night sky looking up was all I could do.
Looking up was all I wanted to do.
Looking up, forgetting about me and seeing only Him.

I have never forgotten.

I am still drawn to night skies.
I still feel very small when I gaze at their beauty.
I need to look up so that I will be in a right relationship.
Creator and creature.

Can you bind the beautiful Pleiades? Can you loose the cords of Orion? Can you bring forth the constellations in their seasons or lead out the Bear with its cubs? Do you know the laws of the heavens? Can you set up God’s dominion over the earth? (Job 38:31-33)

I understand Job’s response.

I am unworthy – how can I reply to You? I put my hand over my mouth. I spoke once, but I have no answer – twice, but I will say no more. (Job 40:4,5)

That is exactly what I felt that night looking up at the night sky.
I could only put my hand over my mouth.
There were no words.
In that silent moment was the most incredible worship I have ever experienced.

In the silence, when only His Glory speaks.