Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Catholic
At the Falling of the Stars

At the Falling of the Stars

Last updated on: November 20, 2024 at 10:39 pm by Mary Pezzulo

0 Comments

At the Falling of the Stars 2024-11-20T22:39:12-04:00 Mary Pezzulo

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

raindrops splashing in a puddle

image via pixabay

I dreamed the stars were falling.

I’ve been exhausted for days. Jimmy’s boy and the Artful Dodgers kept coming over to help me put the garden to bed, a few hours every afternoon. It takes twice as long to do any gardening, if you have to stop every minute to find something harmless for chaotic Appalachian children to do to feel helpful. But somehow, in the midst of all of it, I pushed aside the dead sunflower stalks at the top of the compost heap, and dug out the black chocolatey soil hidden at the bottom.

Barrow after barrow onto the weed-infested patch, spread out with a shovel, then back to the heap to do it again. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life.

Humming and singing to myself, as I always do when I’m doing repetitive work. “My Lord, what a morning, my Lord, what a morning! My Lord, what a morning, when the stars begin to fall.”

I could never be a real farmer like my ancestors in Greenbrier County. I probably couldn’t even manage a paradise on a triple lot like my dear grandfather. But my little domain here in Steubenville, that was just enough. I covered the whole patch with compost. I spread out all the cardboard I had, weighing it down with bricks. It wasn’t quite enough. A third of the vegetable patch was still bare earth. I had nothing left to cover the grass around that rose bush, where I’m planning to grow wildflowers for the pollinators next spring. And I was out of breath, aching, and bone tired.

I was so tired that it took hours to get to sleep. This happens when I’m at my most exhausted: my body drowses, but doesn’t settle. It was nearly morning when I finally drifted the rest of the way off.

I dreamed that I was watching the stars fall from the sky.

I was all the way out in down state West Virginia, near the place where the family farm used to be, in the farmhouse– not the real one, which I’ve never seen even in a photograph, but the one I imagined from my grandfather’s stories. It was night, but barely: I could still see green and purple where the sun had once been, just above the tops of the pine trees. There were children playing in the grass: one was Adrienne, a little younger than Adrienne is now. The others I’d never seen before, but in the dream, I accepted them as family. I laid down on my back in the front yard to look at the stars, while the children played all around.

The stars are bright out in the middle of West Virginia, with no light pollution to spoil your view, but in my dream the stars were impossibly bright. I couldn’t just see the Milky Way. I could see galaxies and nebulae that foamed like spray on the ocean, planets and satellites orbiting dangerously close to earth, constellations no human had seen before. And then the stars moved. Slim needles of starlight dove from one end of the sky to the other, and were gone. At first I could only see the movement at the corners of my eyes, but then the whole sky was full of shooting stars.

“It’s a meteor shower,” said somebody standing next to me, but it wasn’t. It was the end of the world.

It was the end of the world, but it was so beautiful I forgot to be afraid.

I woke up, and it was a warm, sunny Wednesday morning, in late November. The last of the golden maple leaves still clung to those doomed trees my landlord keeps putting off cutting. The air smelled of honey and brown sugar.

I went about my business, writing, tending the guinea pig, waiting for Adrienne to get off school so I’d have an excuse to go out. A neighbor said she’d bring over some cardboard boxes to leave on my porch, so I could finish the gardening before the snow and freezing rain got here Thursday afternoon. By the time I was ready to go to the middle school, the sun was gone. It was drizzling, and getting colder.

By the time we finished our errands and got home, it was miserably wet.

I kept writing until I noticed the sky had grown darker, and the branches of those maples were waving in a harsh wind.

That was when I remembered those cardboard boxes on the porch.

I ran outside, shivering. It had gone down at least ten degrees in the past hour. Rain was blowing sideways against the house.

The boxes were still there: long rectangles like the kind a table that you assemble yourself comes in. They tugged at my arms like sails as the wind caught them. In another moment I was off the porch and around the back, tearing the boxes down to flat strips.

Again, like my dream, it was the end of the world. The stars were needles of rain flying at my face. The nebulae were real clouds in a patchwork up above: steel, iron, charcoal, ash, gray-brown, gray-blue, gray-purple. The firmament was cracking open and the flood waters were here.

Salvation, Glory, and Power to our God, Alleluia! His judgements are honest and true, Alleluia, Alleluia!

Sing praise to our God, all you his servants, Alleluia, all who worship him reverently, great and small, Alleluia, Alleluia! The Lord our all-powerful God is King; alleluia! Let us rejoice, sing praise, and give him glory. Alleluia, Alleluia!

The wedding feast of the lamb has begun, Alleluia! And his bride is prepared to welcome him! Alleluia, alleluia!

My Lord, what a morning. My Lord, what a morning! My Lord, what a morning, when the stars begin to fall!

The rain splashed in my face as I somehow got the cardboard torn into flat sheets and laid it down. Over the place where the tomatoes and squash had been. Over the place where the pumpkins had been. Over the failed watermelon vine that Jimmy’s boy and I tended with no results. Over the sunflower patch. All gone now, returned to the earth.

I weighed down the cardboard with anything I could find: bricks, boards, sand toys the children had left out.

When I got inside I was freezing and soaked to the skin.

I ran upstairs to shower and put on warm clothes. When I got back down, it wasn’t late Autumn anymore, it was winter.

Behold, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him— even those who pierced Him. And all the tribes of the earth will mourn because of Him. So shall it be! Amen. “I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, who is and was and is to come.

In Spring, I learned that resurrection is only natural.

Now that winter is blowing in, I learn that so is the end of the world.

O Lord, what a morning, when the stars begin to fall!

Mary Pezzulo is the author of Meditations on the Way of the Cross, The Sorrows an d Joys of Mary, and Stumbling into Grace: How We Meet God in Tiny Works of Mercy.

Steel Magnificat operates almost entirely on tips. To tip the author, donate to “The Little Portion” on paypal or Mary Pezzulo on venmo

Previous Post

November 17, 2024

A November Pilgrimage

Next Post

November 22, 2024 If You'd Like to See Prayer in Schools...

Recent Comments

0 | Leave a Comment

"Thank you for bringing so much goodness into the lives of so many children.Ran across ..."

alwayspuzzled

The Passion of the Red Oak

"This current administration has had me reflecting on the Nuremberg trials and the like, for ..."

axelbeingcivil

On Traditionalist Bullies, and the Death ..."

"You're talking about supercessionism, the idea that Christians "replace" the covenant that the Jewish people ..."

Alex

Yes, the Old Testament is About ..."

"Oh I'm sure it did."

Mary

A Televised Execution is a Moral, ..."

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category abortion Abuse Advent America American Christianity angel angels Annunciation Appalachia apparition apparition chaser apparition chasers apparition culture art art review babies baby baby Jesus Bad Lip Reading bad statue contest bath beauty Bible story blog blogkeeping blood book review Brandon Sanderson breastfeeding bus Catholic catholic conspiracy alarmism Catholic Oppositional Disorder Charismatic Renewal Charlie the Cat chastity Christ Christian idenitity Christianity and Judaism Chronic Illness clean clothing COD piece comedy compassion conscience conspiracy theory conversion cop-on-black violence Crucifixion cry of the poor culture Daesh Daily Saints death death penalty devotional diaconate diaper diapers dirty disability Donald Trump Dorothy Day dream drugs Eastern Catholicism Eastern Christianity education election election update Elsewhere on Patheos empathy environment Fear feminism film review fish flashback fluffy buns food Franciscan University of Steubenville Friendship Room fun Gabriel gardening gospel hair-splitting Heaven hell heresy Hillary Clinton history Holly the Witch Holy Spirit holy war Homeschooling homosexuality horror human dignity humor Icon idol immigrants infection inter-religious dialogue Interpretation of Scripture Islam Jesus Jihad Joseph joy laity and lay vocations lamb dinner laundry lent lgbtq literature love manners Mary Medicine and Science Meditation mercy mess milk misogyny Missouri monasticism monster motherhood mourn with those mourn movies movis music mystery nature neurodiversity New Pro-Life Movement news nonsense nostalgia O antiphons obituary objectification Ohio Valley Ordinary Time ordination Ordo Amoris parable paradox Passover peanut butter personal beliefs pets philosophy Planet Charismatic poetry politics polls poop Pope Francis Pope Leo power in the Church prayer prayer request prayers preferential option for non-violence president presidential election priest primary private revelation pro-life prophecy Public face of Catholicism Pure Flix Q and A race racism random rape rape. sexuality reader's request Reckoners refugee religious trauma ressurrection Right to life Saints saints and celebrations same-sex same-sex marriage satire scandal secular feasts seder Seven Joys Seven Last Words sex sexual ethics sexuality silencing six months skid row slavery social justice Speculative fiction spiritual abuse spoon stain story suffering suffrage suffragette Sunday Gospel temple Tenebrae Responsories Terror the exorcist The Friendship Room The New Pro-Life Movement Things I Learned on the Internet tin cup traffic true story tv review Uncategorized USCCB vice and temptation violence Virtue virtue and vice war Way of the Cross whimsy whole life women's ordination work of mercy Year A

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 October 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

Who was the wife of Isaac?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Rebekah Leah Sarah Rachel