My Favorite Story

Let me try and actually write this in story form, and not the ramble on type of writing that I tend to use in the blog...

I love staying out late during the early summer; even though the sun is gone, it's warmth still remains. If I could chose the weather, I would make every night like that night. I would always sleep under the stars.

That's just what I did that summer night. I slept under the stars with my two best friends. Now, I could lie to you. I could tell you that this was the perfect summer night: clear as Crystal with every star plainly shining back at us. But that would be a lie.

The only weather related perfection about that night was the temperature. Just maybe it was those pesky clouds blocking our view that was incubating Central Maine, keeping it at that perfect 68 degree weather all night long. However, that was not our focus that night. We talked of God, creation, and just how small we felt next to the distant stars that we could not see. If only the clouds would part, if just for a minute, so that we could see their magnificent beauty, we said.

We talked of some other things as well. Nothing I can remember, I suppose we talked of boys and church and school (and all the drama that comes with being a teenager). But the conversation was not what makes this my favorite story. We whispered and giggled, every so often hearing my brother talk to his computer in the house some 3 dozen feet away. During these mundane moments, a miracle happened.

No one was raised from the dead, no fatal illnesses were cured. No one trekked across the surface of the pool, and no one slayed a giant with a single stone. But God gave us an everyday sized miracle, just for us. The rest of the world probably did not notice, and the rest of the world probably did not care. The rest of the world was not looking, but we were. We watched as the clouds parted. They did not part completely; but a perfect circle had formed directly above where we lay. God exposed to us His glory, along with the moon and the stars that we so longed to look at that warm summer night. And then it was over.

As quickly as the clouds parted, they swept back together revealing only a dim glow where the moon reflected the sun's light behind the clouds. It was okay though; It was enough. The brief glimpse, the perfect circle... I suppose that if the clouds completely dissipated, this would not be my favorite story. That night the Red Sea parted for us; typical teenage girls living a life that seemed so mundane. What I know now is that there is no such thing as a mundane life.

My faith is the reason I know there was a miracle that night, and it is the miracle that night that keeps my faith alive. That's why this is my favorite story.