Do you star people on Facebook?
I star my closest family, my dearest friends ... anyone I want to hear from. Those I absolutely don't want to miss a post from, an update from, a prayer request from.
Those in China, the Philippines, Malta, Brazil, Canada.
Obviously, we can't star everyone, but we definitely can those closest to us. Those of utmost importance to us.
If I "like" your posts often, you can assume that you are starred. You can assume that you are very special to me.
Recently, my hubs had been googling. Sometimes he'll search all our names to see what pops up.
"Yes, that's Beth Moore's blog," I said.
"Did you know that Karalee won a book? So Long Insecurity, Teen Edition."
"No. I didn't."
"She won it in 2013."
I ran to the computer, and sure enough, there was the post announcing the winner's circle. And there was Karalee's name in bold, along with this statement:
"If the winners could email me as soon as you get a chance, I will get your book to you as fast as possible. Go ahead and send me your name and mailing address! We can’t wait for you to have this book in your hands!"
Well, obviously, I had entered my daughter into a contest, and because I didn't star the event—Beth's words—I never claimed the prize for my daughter. I missed it. I had forgotten about it and never checked back to see if she had won. The one time I win, and I missed it. How disappointing!
However, I laughed myself silly, after we hi-fived. And I wondered ... is it too late to claim the prize? Uh, I think so.
(But knowing Beth, I think not)
But, you know me. Nothing happens in my life that I don't stop and wonder what God is trying to teach me.
God asked my heart, "Do you have me starred, Shelli Ann? Are you listening for my every update, my every post, my voice, my love, my love notes, my kisses on your cheeks, my arms around you, my fingertips wiping away your tears, my warnings, my guidance, my comfort? Shelli Ann, am I of utmost importance to you?"
Are you listening and watching for ...
The One who laid the earth's foundation, marked off its dimensions.
The One who gives orders to the morning.
The One who enters the storehouses for the snow.
The One who knows the way to the place where the lightning is dispersed.
The One who raises His voice to the clouds.
The One who brings forth the constellations in their seasons.
The One who hears the morning stars sing.
The One who makes the desolate wasteland sprout with grass, the father of rain, the father of dew drops.
And one special thing about our beautiful Maker, the lover of our souls, our Savior ... it's never too late to claim the prize.
For He is the prize.
For His Daughter, His Son—His Child.
He is the bright Morning Star.