The other night my roommate called at around 11 p.m. and told me that I needed to get my shoes and coat on because she had something to show me. Now understand, I'm rapidly becoming old. I don't like to go out late on a weeknight, I've picked up knitting, and I rarely leave home without a cardigan. I'm a regular Mrs. Rogers.

So, my first instinct was to whine about how sleepy I was, and how I was just getting ready for bed. But when my roommate gets something in her head, she's pretty much insistent. So I put on my slippers and climbed in her car. We drove a few miles from home onto a deserted road void of streetlights, where we rolled down our windows, my roommate pointed at the sky, and simply said "look."

The black sky was filled with rolling green lights, waving and dipping like dancers. Who would have thought that I could see the Northern Lights in good 'ol Missouri? I leaned further out the window, my face frozen while the rest of me remained warmed by the heater blasting on my feet and arms. And to think, I almost missed it.

How much do I miss because I'm tired, or lazy, or too practical. How many times does God invite me to marvel at His creation and I ignore Him because it's not a good time for me.

Thank goodness for a patient God and an irrepressable roommate.