Smaller Than the Stars
By Sherry-Ann Brown, MD, PhD | June 09, 2016
One night recently, I was laying on a blanket on the wet grass, while friends were building a fire and playing and singing worship music. One of the young women I met that night lay on the blanket next to me, and we looked at the stars. I commented on how amazing it was that the God who made them held them up there and they didn't just fall down on us. She remarked that she didn't see it that way and looking at the stars only made her feel small. She mentioned that she couldn’t look at it that way, because she was from a scientific background. She went on to describe the life of stars, why we see their light and the Big Bang Theory. I smiled and assured her that my bachelor's, master's and PhD are in science, and I also have the MD. I told her the more I learn, the more I am fascinated with and awed by God's glorious design. I agreed that looking at the stars helped us realize how small we are, but it makes it even more incredible that even though we are so small, God chooses to love and wants to have a personal relationship with every single one of us.
She went on to tell me about how it's so hard for her to trust God. She is dyslexic and has been bullied by teachers and peers because of it since she was in middle school. This continued into high school, college and beyond. As I write this reflection, tears are washing my face and my arms, but thankfully not falling onto the computer keyboard. She continuously used the arms of her sweatshirt to wipe her tears as she openly told me her story and about her sister who was born mute and died two years ago. She can't imagine how she can possibly trust anyone, even God, after what's happened to her family and her.
I told her about how when God first created the world, it was all perfect. There was no bullying, or hurt, or pain, or suffering, or injury, or abnormality, or dyslexia or muteness. Yet, He didn't want robots; He wanted to give us free will. He cautioned us to stay away from one thing, because approaching it wouldn't be best for us, but He gave us a choice—to trust Him. The first humans who did not trust God were Adam and Eve. They fell for it, what the enemy told them. They ate the fruit with which the enemy enticed them. Then they noticed they were naked. Before we chose to introduce brokenness into our world, nakedness wasn't a thing. They didn't notice. After they fell for the enemy's lies, chose not to trust God and felt they could do things better on their own, they noticed their nakedness and felt their shame. God knew where they were, but He wanted them to notice where they were and what state they had fallen into. So He called to them and asked them where they were.
Since then, we have as a human race always been like our forefather Adam. We don't trust God and we feel as though we can do things better on our own, as we navigate this sea of brokenness—brokenness in our relationships with each other and with the environment.
It's natural to not trust God. He's a gentleman. He doesn't force us. He invites us, He pursues us and He waits. He waits. He waits. He loves us so much, even though we as humans have always chosen not to trust Him. He still loves us, reaches His hand out to us and waits for us to take His hand so He can pull us closer to Himself and shows us what He sees, because we don't see what He sees. Our sight is so focused on what we are experiencing immediately around us, and we don't see the overall big picture He sees. What He sees goes farther and wider than our limited vision. So He waits. Yes, He waits. He waits for us to trust Him.
Then I sang for her the lyrics of the song "Something Was Missing" by the group Anointed and emphasized the second verse. I quoted Jeremiah 29:11-13 paraphrased from a few different versions. As she cried, I tried to be gentle and loving and not pushy. And I let her think about it, while He waits. I got her permission to text her whenever I think of her. I'm all stuffy now from all this bawling. Hope this blesses you as it blessed me.