December 5: The God Who Counts the Stars

It’s a starry night. Not the one we usually think of this time of year. No carols are ringing. No snow is falling. This night is one for the ages, though. Let’s turn back the pages of time once more. The story we’re unfolding only makes sense when we start at the beginning. 

The sky is clear -– not a cloud in sight. The stars drape the night sky like a diamond necklace on a jeweler’s velvet cloth. An old man, shoulders sagging with the weight of time and the weight of longing. His arms are empty, his wife’s womb as barren as the desert sand. Like music with no song is a heart with no hope. 

Do you hear Yahweh’s whisper? “Abraham, look up! Look up and count the stars. That’s how many descendants you’ll have. That’s how many promises I’ll keep.”

God had not forgotten His promise. The serpent crusher would come, and God would use an imperfect, wayward, broken, messed-up family to bring the Light into this dark and hopeless world.

Look up, Abraham! Look up and count the stars.

Abraham believed, and it was counted to him as righteousness.

This was no flimsy belief. He didn’t ask God to prove anything to him. He didn’t demand a sign or present a list of demands. He believed before the promise came true. He believed before his arms were full. He believed because he knew that the God who makes promises is the God who keeps promises. And his faith was counted as righteousness.

Look up, Abraham! Look up and count the stars. I'm giving you a family bigger than you ever imagined.

Have you ever considered that you were counted in those stars? That night Abraham looked up and saw the lights glimmering against the black sky --- too many to count. But God knew each one by name. For those stars pointed not only to the coming king but to all those who would believe. Through Abraham, the serpent crusher would be born, and through Abraham, a family would be made.

Look up, Abraham! Look up and count the stars. Through you, Abraham, all the nations of the earth will be blessed. 

Abraham saw beyond the thin fabric of his small world to see that what God was doing was so much bigger than his own dreams and desires. God was inviting Him into the story of redemption. He would fill Abraham’s arms not only with a child but with a lineage that would wrap around the whole wide world.

One man, one family, blessed so the blessing could stretch all the way to a manger filled with hay and then to right through the ages to every down-trodden, sin-laden heart who chooses to believe. 

God doesn’t just count stars. He counts those who believe as righteous. He’s bringing wandering vagrants back and wayward hearts home. He’s lassoing his children, taking us back to Eden. He’s restoring His fractured family into a priestly kingdom. 

As you look at the lights draped across your tree tonight, will you believe? Not in the magic of Christmas, but in the miracle of mercy. Stop your wandering and come home. And when you stop to wander, you’ll begin to wonder. Wonder at the glory of grace wrapped up in swaddling clothes. Wonder at the mystery of mercy unraveled at Calvary’s cross. The God who counts stars is calling to you. He’s inviting you into His story of redemption. He’s beckoning you to unwrap His mercy so He can unbind your shackles.

Do you hear Yahweh’s whisper? “Look up! Look up and count the stars!” 

Look up from the phone and the planning. Look up from the schedule and the shopping. Look up from the cooking and the caroling. Look up and count. Count the ways He’s been good. Count the promises He’s kept. Count backward to an old man given a promise. Count forward to the cry of a baby in a dusty stable. Keep counting to a crown of thorns, nail-scarred hands, and an empty grave. Try it. Try counting His promises. And like Abraham, you might discover that just as there are too many stars to count, our worthiness for grace will also never add up.

The question is ... Are you counting His promises this Christmas? Are you wandering far from Him, or are you wondering in Him? Are you wandering in your sin, in your shame, or in your longing? Or are you wondering at the endless, lavish, unimaginable love and mercy of Jesus poured out for you?

Look up! Can you count the stars?