More than five billion

Lord, You turn the wheels of the galaxies. You know what makes the planets spin and You know what makes this watch run. . . ." The

until recently no one could know that the little blob of light marked the presence of another galaxy, one twice the size of the Milky Way and home to half a trillion stars. Or that these next-door neighbors were but two of 100 billion galaxies likewise swarming with stars.

God calls each and every star by name. It's not likely He has forgotten yours.

There is something beautiful about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what He is doing. (They hang there, the stars, like notes on a page of music, free-form verse, silent mysteries swirling in the blue like jazz.) And as I lay there, it occurred to me that God is up there somewhere.

Some nights in the midst of this loneliness I swung among the scattered stars at the end of the thin thread of faith alone.

Numerous, and every Starr perhaps a World   Of destind habitation; but

We take some big miracles for granted. We're on a planet that's spinning at a thousand miles per hour, traveling through space and we don't worry about God keeping our planet in orbit. We already trust God for the big miracles like our heart beating and today alone, we'll take a thousand breaths, but can we trust Him in the smaller things?

So fantasy was fine early on, and when I discovered science fiction, I was very happy with it, because my first interest in science fiction came with an interest in astronomy.

It's the stars that are imprisoned in their own power, and they cannot really help us. They merely design the nets, and on cosmic looms they weave the warp thread that we must complete with our own weft.

For it is God's business to create, and people's business to name.

If we deliberately choose to obey God, then He will tax the remotest star and the last grain of sand to assist us with all His almighty power.