Stars.

Things fell together tonight like the stars as they fell across the sky for no one other than me and my sweet Jesus.
He is back. My backroads Jesus. I found him when I pulled over to the side of the road. And I looked up at the thousands of stars that glittered the sky. I had forgotten them. Or most of them, anyway.
When I remember stars, I only remember a few of them. The ones I know by name. But I forget the thousands of others. I forgot that the sky has a milky way. I forgot so many things until now.
I got to see Lindsay for the first time in 7 months today. 7 months. Who knew that such a long period of time would pass so quickly? Will my life be an instant? Scripture promises that. But you know, the Bible promises a lot of things that might not be literal. Who knew that this one was? I sure didn't.
Lindsay's smile was something I had forgotten. And the way she exclaims words.
I had forgotten how dear of a friend she was to me.
When I think about the way things were; or are; or have been; or when I try to process the way that life is moving, I realize that I forget more than I remember. Surely, I will die and old, forgetful woman, simply because I do it so well.
I know a guys from church who is a physical therapist. And he says that the body forgets pain. I mean, you can remember sadness, happiness or fear. But you can't recall pain, because if you could it would be chaos. It is by God's grace you forget.
And perhaps, in all of this desire to heal, I have taught myself to forget. But with that comes the good and the bad. I forget earth-shattering pains, but also the small ones that have been equally influential in shaping me as a person.
Until, that is, I find myself on the back roads tonight. God had been calling me there ever since he met me at the ocean yesterday on a clear Saturday afternoon. It was there, as I stood on a cliff that He started to whisper my name on the salty Pacific wind.
So, tonight, the song 'My Savior's Love Endures" played as I leaned against the cool metal of my car. Occasionally, the silence met with a cow's moaning over the fence. I smiled. My feet shuffled and my arms waved in circles. Small, waltzing circles. I felt almost childish, spining under all of my forgotten friends. I let out small breaths, afraid to break this silence in the dark. I gazed. As JJ sang, "Praise the spirit, three in one," I saw a small streak on my left as the hand of God pushed a friend across the sky. I missed that.
Moments later, the song "Stars" by David Crowder came on. And the words that I heard for the hundredth and yet the first time were "How can such a thing shine its light on me and make Everything Beautiful?" Everything. Beautiful. Even pain. Even what we forget.
Perhaps, it is by God's grace that I forgot this feeling. I had forgotten the thrill of a shooting star on a cold night in December. I had forgotten the smell of damp country earth. I had forgotten the wind's whisper. For if He hadn't allowed me to forget, I never would have gotten to remember.