I brought our Great Pyrenees, Appa, his food this morning and stood out with him for a while…visiting and looking at the sky.
It’s Christmas Day….and the sky is full of stars.
We don’t live in a place without light.
Our neighbor leaves his light on all the time.
But…even with all the light on the ground…the stars were bright.
There was a special star in Bethlehem the night Jesus was born.
I don’t know which star in the sky was the special star.
There are a lot of stars.
“Not knowing” lets me suppose, though, that maybe the special star shines on me, too…and reminds me of what happened in Bethlehem….in a common place…in a manger.
This is the morning of Christmas Day.
I know a star.