Titan, The Big Dipper, and Thin Places

Titan, the 6 lb. Wonder

   Most of the time, I stumble into thin places - they surprise me, which is one of the cool things about them.  Like last night when our dog, Titan (our 6 lb. Papillion), woke me up with his whimpering which says, "I really need to go outside to tend to some necessary business."  I stiffly got out of bed (that's happening more and more these days as I've passed the "50" year milestone), helped him down to the floor, and together we made our way through the darkened house to the sliding patio door off the kitchen.  You know the drill: eyes half slit, just enough so you can navigate the path from bedroom door to kitchen without waking up completely but also without running into anything, guaranteeing you'll be up for another hour.
    I slide open the door and invite Titan to go out and take care of his "necessaries", but Titan - being only a 6 lb. dynamo - isn't really comfortable out in that big back yard by himself at night without company, so I reluctantly join him on the back stoop - surprisingly warm for 2:30 AM - thinking how grateful I am that Pete and Isaac (our 18 year old twin sons who seem more related to raccoons or barn owls than to their Mom and me) usually tend to this mid-night duty, since they're up anyway.

The Big Dipper

    And that's when I stumble into the "thin place".  I look up into the night sky and see  the "Big Dipper" framed perfectly in the space between the huge shade tree to my left and the houses across the street.  And I sense God calling me to me through the inky black sky perforated by those 7 points of light, "Steve...see what you'd have missed if Titan hadn't gotten you up?  Look at My handiwork!  Isn't it awesome?!  Just wanted to greet you in the middle of the night with a reminder of my providential care and great love for you - Enjoy!"
    And in the quiet of that moment, with Titan once again comfortable and ready to head back in for the rest of the night, I whisper a prayer of praise and thanksgiving for an unexpected mid-night encounter with the God of the universe and the Lord of my life.  I think of Psalm 8:3-5, "When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established, what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?"  I'll never figure that one out, but I don't need to.  I just need to continue yearning for thin places, knowing God is just on the other side.