The Choice Written in Stars

Most people can’t say they fell asleep while 10,000 feet in the air gazing at an active volcano that felt close enough to touch. I am blessed to say that I have. I know what you’re thinking; good thing I’m not afraid of heights. I thought I was, but after flying for 24 hours straight on an airplane above the ocean, I may have overcome that fear.

We hiked the mountain for the sole goal of getting to know our translators so that we could share the love of Jesus with them. I’m thankful to know that we experienced much more than we expected. Standing there watching the sunset, the colors melted together, disappeared under the clouds, and engraved an image in my head that will prevail in my memories for as long as I live. Over the horizon, out of the corner of my eye I spied lightning. It was just a quick spark that lasted only a moment and then ran back to the safety of the cloud. Of course I’ve seen lightning before, but I had never seen the entire cloud releasing the light from its gray figure. Standing frozen above the clouds with the wind sending shivers down my spine, I woke up to the realization that God created this. I’ve always known that God created the world, but as I looked at the details of the landscape, listened to the myriad sounds, and took in the many scents of the wooded mountains, truth was finally stamped into my soul.

As the sun began to descend below the horizon, the sky began to darken, revealing the blinding stars that slowly began to light up the sky. My friends and I walked over to a section of the mountain that provided us a view unencumbered by trees. No one said a word. I felt like a mindless mosquito, trying to find the spot where I could view the most light. The brisk wind wound its way through my windbreaker and I shivered, pulling the sleeping bag around my shoulders. In the dark it was hard to make out the rest of the group settling into an open rocky parcel to my right. Pain shot through my foot as I looked down to make out a fallen tree blocking my path to join the rest of the group. I laughed, because that’s how I react to pain. A quick burst of wind stole the sound of my soft giggle, and I quickly hurdled the obstruction that blocked my path to the perfect view of the night sky.

Approaching the group, I witnessed a peacefulness that is hard to describe. All four of my newfound best friends, who hadn’t shut up since the plane ride here, were silent. Not the drop of a pin kind of silent, but the blanket kind. The kind where everyone is in sync with one another, mesmerized by the creation light years away. I didn’t want to break the trance.

I silently laid down between Jack and Chris, two people who have become like older brothers to me. The heat from the surrounding bodies pulled my chattering teeth to a halt and we laid there together allowing our breath to fall into sync with one another. As I laid there with my friends, side by side in stunned silence gazing at a clear sky filled with stars, I just wanted time to freeze. I longed to grow old in that spot, surrounded by those I love, imagining God looking down on us with his eyes full of love.

I knew it was unrealistic. There are too many things that God has created us to do, billions of people have yet to hear that there is a God in heaven that loves them enough to die for them. We all knew there was more cut out for us, but the temporary thoughts that we might be able to stay here forever, satisfied our hope. A tear slipped out of the corner of my eye and rolled down my cheek, glistening in the moonlight. No one saw it, but to me it was a statement. A piece of me, falling down my cheek onto my neck and eventually seeping into the ground below. Even though I would have to leave this spot, I wanted the world to know that I was here, convincing myself that this is where I should be. This is where I am needed.

Staring down at the village lights thousands of feet beneath me, I realized my purpose for living was to share the love of Jesus with these people. To teach them about the savior of the world. To show them His overflowing grace and love.

Blinking away my tears, my eyes fell upon a collection of light. A blurry constellation came into focus, and I realized I was looking at a simple, yet impactful shape. It took the form of a cross; a cross written in stars. The fact that I hadn’t noticed it before is bizarre; the image was boldly engraved in the sky.

I sat there wondering how there are so many people living upon this island and yet no one has looked up to see this image that was obviously put there for a reason. This moment, while beautiful, flooded my heart with great mourning. Sitting there, above all of the separate mosques, I could hear hundreds of different voices reading the Quran. I sat there listening to the sacred book of Islam being read over the loudspeakers to everyone within earshot as the cross hung so visibly in the sky above them. The contraction between the two senses was overwhelming.

The sight of the image representing God’s plan for His people, yet hearing the exact opposite of what He has longed for them to learn. It broke my heart. Picking up the pieces created a vision of why God allowed me to come here. It created a clarity in my mind that fled quickly to my heart. He wanted me to see the brokenness of the world. He wanted me to see what He created and the opportunity He had provided for those who love him. He wanted me to make a decision. And I did. I dedicated my life to following His commands, to sharing his story with those who have not yet heard it. In that moment looking up at the shining cross, I recalled the words of Jesus in John 15, “You are the light of the world.” I realized that while the cross was apparent to me, God had other plans for how these people would see the light of his truth. Me.