A single star hovered in the night sky, light years away from that itsy bitsy speck the others called ‘Earth.’  This star’s name was Vega, and she was part of the constellation Columba.  Vega could only guess what lay beyond the confines of her constellation, but she dreamed of it.  You see, Vega was different from the others stars in Columba; she was a dreamer.  She was unhappy where she was, because she was so different from the others.  She felt awkward around Atlia, who was once her close friend, and Reti and Hydra weren’t interested in having the deep conversations Vega longed for.  Erid was okay; at least she understood the world’s deeper mysteries and was comfortable talking about them, but Vega, after losing Atlia, had a difficult time trusting others.  

So, she dreamed; dreamed of faraway constellations where other stars would love her, care for her, teach her how to shine her brightest.  For she knew she was not the brightest star she could be.  There is something about the heart, she often pondered, that makes a star glow.  What, then, should I expect if my heart is broken?  

Vega longed for friendship, for love, but more than anything else, she longed for her Maker’s touch.  Somewhere in that vast ocean of space, she knew her Maker existed, but in the darkness of space, Vega felt more alone than ever.  How was it, she wondered, that the other stars could hear His voice so clearly?  How could Atlia, Reti, and Hydra talk so fondly of their Maker as though He were only paces away from them, whispering into their hearts?  Was that why they seemed to shine so bright?  Or had they figured out a way to fake it?

Vega didn’t know how to fake it; perhaps if she did, the other stars would enjoy her company a little more.  If Vega could be a bright star, maybe she’d be accepted.  But, was that right?  A dim star was who she was right now; shouldn’t they accept her as she is?

Vega had often been told that the Maker loved all the little stars, despite their brightness.  Vega wondered if that was true; if it were, wouldn’t she be able to hear His voice like the others?  Had the Maker abandoned her to be a dim star forever?

Vega puffed a stream of air as she gazed upon the specks of constellations that existed far from her.  Would happiness exist in those constellations, or was true happiness on the inside?  Perhaps it does not matter where I travel, thought little Vega, perhaps I need to find this happiness within myself.

Or in the arms of her Maker, the one thing she wanted more than anything.

What would it be like to be rocked in the arms of the Maker, listening to the soft whispers of His Fatherly voice?  What would it feel like to be touched by Him?  What would He say?

You are my child....

Vega startled.  Was she imagining things again?  After all, her imagination was always on the go; would she have imagined that still, small voice?

I am your Father...

Vega thought she was going crazy.  It wasn’t as though she heard the voice, but it came from within.  The words came from the depths of her heart, like soft whispers through the rain.  She felt herself balancing a thin wire, desperate to believe the words softening the icy chambers of her heart, yet still feeling the doubts drowning her.

I am unlovable, thought Vega.  Just ask any of those other stars.

You are fearfully and wonderfully made....

The voice again.  Louder, and yet without sound.

Tears pooled in Vega’s eyes as her heart’s walls began to melt.  The voice became louder, and the doubts floated away.  It was true, it was all true.

You are my child...I love you...

That was it.  That was true happiness.  Vega realized in that moment she needed nothing but the love of her Maker, and that was already hers, freely given, offered despite her dim glow.

But that was when Vega looked down and realized something had changed.  She was not a dim star any longer; she was a beacon among the other stars that night.  Her glow could even be seen from Earth that night, but Vega would never know that.  She only knew the glow in her heart, and the voice that had finally settled there.

That was the only glow that mattered.