Surfing the Stars

I've stood in a forest on a cool morning at daybreak and filled my lungs with the clean scent of the woods. I've sat on warm sandy beaches and watched the waves rolling in, the ocean breeze blowing in so hard it scraped my hair back even as the sand baked everything that touched it. I've stood on mountaintops in the Alps and stared out over a valley far below and it made me dizzy. As a kid I lived in the country and I lay on the warm summer grass and stared up into a night sky and lost my breath at the feeling of falling into space.

I can't ever forget those sensations. Even now, years from them all, I remember. The feeling inside me, that something is expanding until I can't contain it. I couldn't put a name to it but it was as real as the skin on my bones.

There is a limitlessness that opens up in me, as if I'm suddenly hollowed out and there is nothing that can fill the space. I become this vast forest, the restlessness of the rolling ocean, the towering height of the mountain. And the stars, oh, the stars whisper to me, begging me to explore them.

Silly, isn't it?

Admittedly, I was young when I lived these moments. Not even 30. I think I'd do nearly anything to relive them. Stand in the forest, sit on the beach, climb the mountain, and lie in the grass on a summer night watching the stars all sound like heaven to me. I'm awed by them even in memories. It is unlikely I'll ever do any of it again.

Oh, I can watch the sky in my backyard but there is nothing like a sky with no city light to dim its glory. There are documentaries that can provide me with astounding images of forest, oceans, and mountains. They can't connect me. There won't be the breathlessness, the warmth, or the enormity of it all.

There is only one place I've been able to experience anything like all those sensations. When I am sitting in the presence of God, whether it is in church or in a private time of prayer. There is this moment, it always seems brief, that I touch something so clean, so warm, and so vast that I can't explain it. That hollow place expands to the point I don't exist anymore or if I do, I'm infinitesimally small. That's when the wonder sets in.

That something so vast, so good, so great could have an interest in something so small and not good boggles the mind. My mind can't understand it. My spirit can't believe it. My soul craves it. To sit with the Savior, for one moment, is as wonderful as surfing the stars.

How I wanted to surf the stars! Maybe that's something I will get to do someday.