The seminary where I was formed for the priesthood is located in a semi-rural area southeast of Buffalo, NY. On a cloudless night, you can walk out near “the lake” (an overgrown pond) and lay on your back and stare at the sky. There on a clear winter’s night, you can see stars never seen by anyone in the city, or anywhere that experiences “light pollution.” The sky is crystal clear, I seem to remember that you could even see elements of the Milky Way.
Then you start to think. How far away is that nearest star? How long did it take the very light that twinkles in your eye to reach this tiny world through a vast universe? Upon realizing that even the little bit of this vast universe we can perceive, how and why should God care about me – a mere “speck” in this incomprehensible universe?
Yet even with thoughts about how insignificant I may be, there is a certain peace that fills my breast, my very soul in contemplating how immense God is. That very insignificance becomes itself a gift – grace: that even so small, God cares about and shows God’s love for me in revealing this part of creation to me.
— based on Psalm 8
Source: Rector’s Blog