As the night blankets over the prior illumination of the sun, Timothy Sloan stares into the cloudless night sky. Mesmerized by the starry beauty, it’s as if he sinks into the nightly canvas dotted with a copious candlelights, the Milky Way as if a painter took his brush and gently swept it across the canvas.
It is in this trance that he finally realizes: God truly is an artist. He cherishes nights like these when, on the seldom occasion, the night sky is not tainted with light pollution so that all you can stare into is a black abyss with a dappled star here and there, lonely in the abyss.
Timothy’s trance is interrupted by a sudden, falling bright ball of light in the night sky. He watches as it continues to fall, ripping through each of the Earth’s atmospheres. Breaching the stratosphere, he watches as the ball of light becomes a flaming meteorite rapidly descending towards the surface. He estimates it to be about five miles away as it slammed into the Earth’s crust, knocked back by the shockwave as it unexpectedly approached him, shattering the house windows.
His mother, Nancy, a single mother of two teenage sons, rushes down the stairs.
Staring at Timothy, speechless by the unknown, all he could muster in a yelp was, “A meteorite,” pointing in the direction it had crashed.
She ran to the living room and he heard her turn on the TV to the news channel. His older brother, Nathaniel, subsequently ran down the stairs.
“What the heck is going on?” he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes.
Tim filled him in on the details and they joined Nancy in the living room.
Tim said to her, “Mom, I don’t think they know about it yet. It literally just happened.”
But he stood corrected. The news anchors were already talking about it.
“According to the local observatory,” a middle-aged man was saying, “the meteorite that just landed just short of seven miles outside Woodstock was completely unexpected. Our news team is on their way to the site and footage will be up shortly. The leading astronomer at the observatory, Doctor Andrew Lynch, and his team are completely befuddled as to how they missed the impending meteorite. They have no further information for us at this time.” Putting his hand on his earbud, he continued, “We now have our camera crew on site. Jeff, fill us in.”
The screen changed to a younger man. “Yeah, uh, this meteorite is huge, John. It looks to be about one hundred feet in diameter. We got multiple fire trucks here putting out the forest fire caused by the impact. The local police and fire departments aren’t allowing anyone to come near it. They advise that everyone stay in their homes and tomorrow the county will be taking volunteers to help clean up the area.”
“Thank you, Jeff,” the anchorman said. “Jeff was correct in that the county will be taking volunteers for cleanup. If you would like to help in this endeavor, please meet officials at the site tomorrow morning at seven thirty. You can find the coordinates on the screen now.” A banner flashed on the bottom of the screen with the GPS coordinates.
Nancy turned off the TV and said, “I would help, but I have to go in to work tomorrow. I doubt they’ll close because of this. You two should help.”
“Yeah, of course,” Tim said.
“We will,” Nathan complied.
“I hope nobody got hurt,” Tim said.
“Judging from what we saw on the news, it looks like it landed in one of the nearby fields,” Nancy said. “I doubt anyone was hurt, but it might’ve ruined some farmer’s crops, maybe even cattle, heaven forbid. Don’t worry, honey. You’re such a sweetheart.”
“Okay, I hope so. Well, I’m off to bed. We gotta’ be there in six hours.”
Tim left for bed, sending a prayer up to heaven that nobody was hurt.
The Lutheran Column 