Tonight, I felt small

Tonight I felt small, looking into the vast expanse of space. I, for the first time, realized just how far away the heavens truly are, I can see only the stars of our own galaxy and the pinpricks of those too far away for my mind to comprehend. The stars look as if portals into the floor of heaven itself, with myself separated by the clear, thin shelter of this planets atmosphere and then nothing, but nothingness. I sensed the huge awesome space of this existence I live in and the minuteness of my body in relation. It is so grand, I am as a grain of sand at the bottom of the sea looking up into the glittering sunshine of the surface, fathoms of distance away. The calmness of this night is pervading in its beauty. I cannot escape it, but with sleep and the arrival of day, the reflection of the sun in the sky shutting out the expanse for a day. At the exact moment I felt most alone, instantly I sensed my eternal creator standing at my shoulder, as I sat, his hand wresting on me, so tangible I was afraid to turn my head that I might catch a glimpse of his figure. This was created for me, to see my size, to understand my finite nature, to know that even in such majestic emptiness the creator of it all can stand at my side and whisper in my ear that I am his, that he is who he is. There is great holiness in such unreligious encounters as this. Although the heavens are untouchable, the one who lives in them is standing, gazing with me, enjoying, loving what is intrinsically real. Moments as these no faith is needed to believe, for time and space have been bent into the hands of their creator to reveal not only what is seen, but what exist.