Star of Wonder

Some people burst into our lives, bringing brightness, light, and, like Polaris – the North star – helping us find our true north. While many stars move with the seasons, Polaris is almost motionless, a fixed point above the North Pole, with other northern stars appearing to move around it. Because of its value for those who have navigated by the stars through the ages, Polaris is greatly esteemed and perhaps the most well known of all the stars.

But when I think about the heavens, I think about the millions – probably billions upon billions – of stars that together make such a breathtaking display on a clear December night. Polaris has been important as a guide, but how dull would the sky be if it were the only star, or if all the stars shone in equal brightness.  Once again I am awed by the diversity God intentionally placed in our world. 

Even within our own little constellations of life – our families, our faith communities, our neighborhoods -- there are people who serve as our Polaris: people whose wisdom and words are valued and often sought. I know people like that. They are beloved and respected and often stretched because of the great demands on their time. But I also know many people who are wise but are rarely  asked to share their wisdom, maybe because their wisdom is shared in much more quiet ways. Perhaps they would be uncomfortable being viewed as a leader, a teacher, a spiritual guide. It makes me a little sad to know there are many whose gifts aren’t always appreciated or fully used or even recognized.

Today I lost a friend who was one of those quiet stars; rather than a bright and fiery star, she was a steadfast, quiet light. To my knowledge she never led others with words – she never made a speech or led a retreat or wrote a public reflection that I am aware of -- she led by just doing what needed to be done. She took care of the little things that made life easier for those around her.

About three years ago I joined a women’s spirituality group. Carolyn was always there, every second Saturday, to set up the chairs, to make coffee, to make sure our meeting space was open and welcoming. She took care of the finances and probably did much more than I ever realized. No doubt people – including me -- took her for granted, just accepting her quiet gifts of herself, her dedication to this group of women without realizing the graces she gave us.  She always shared during our discussions but truthfully I didn’t know her that well, or know that much about her. She was clearly an intelligent and kind person and whatever she shared among the group was always a gift.

Carolyn had struggled with cancer  which she shared a little with our group, though never in a self-pitying way. This fall she found the cancer had reoccurred and just this afternoon she passed away.  And so a star has fallen, and the heavens are a little bit less beautiful because of the loss. It is a reminder to me to really get to know and appreciate people, to see their light. It is a reminder of the value of little, quiet ways of loving. And a call to live life fully while we have it, to touch others whenever we can, and tell them we love them and cherish them.