The title of this probably sounds a lot like the title of a song that would be a hit in another "High School Musical." Although this has the potential to be a hit Disney song, it carries much more weight in my life than a song ever could. You see, a shooting star is a symbol of God, hope, and faith in my life. A moment of light to say, “Keep on going. There is hope coming.”

I know people say that shooting stars are one in a lifetime sights, and maybe to some it is. Sorry to those who have never witnessed a sight as passionately beautiful as this, but I've had a few breathtaking encounters.

First of all, some people refer to them as falling stars. If you do, then you're saying it wrong. If you say “falling” it sounds like its an accident. A coincidence. Effortless. The word “shooting star” carries it’s true definition. If you've ever shot a gun, you'll understand this. You have to lay the gun on your shoulder in the right spot or it will hurt when it fires. You have to aim just right, then slowly pull the trigger. If you're anything like me, you'll miss the shot you're attempting to make nine times out of 10. A shooting star is like this, but it never misses its target. Its always the right place and right time. Intentional. Personal. Captivating.The only reason they are what they are, is because the God of the universe if perfectly coordinating them.

The first time I saw one of these, I was in Walt Disney World for my first time. Watching a childhood favorite "The Princess Diaries." As I sat outside looking at the screen in the perfect fall weather, a star ran across the sky like a bright streamer laced perfectly for a party. As quick as you saw it, it was gone. I thought it was the magic of Disney. Come to find out, it was much more powerful than pixie dust. (Not hating on pixies.)

The second time, was a few months later. Under the dark December sky, my friend and I were walking in my house and saw two shooting stars at the same time. This story could take up the entire article, so Ill have to keep it short. We sat outside for hours counting the pieces of the sky falling. 78 stars to be exact fell that night. That’s also the night my friend surrendered her life to Christ. Wow. What a testimony.

Then the most recent time, I was riding in the car just feeling beaten. Not feeling beautiful or graceful or worthy of love. I’m almost 100 percent sure every woman has felt this from time to time. I got out the car and looked up to the sky and prayed “God, please show me a shooting star in Jesus name” and in that moment, one skipped across the blackness into oblivion. I said, “Mom, look at this. You'll see a shooting star if you have faith that it will.” I repeated the prayer out loud, and there another one was. There. Just for me.

The moral of this isn't that God is a magician and throws stars around the sky like he's playing pin ball. He did it when I needed it most. The moments when my soul needed attention. He captivated me with his creation and said, “You’re my creation. And you're much more awesome than a rock in space catching on fire.”

I’ll be honest, I don't always “get” God or his plan. I most of the time cant even wrap my head around the fact that he loves me. That he's capable of loving me unconditionally. (Even though he has shown me a million times in more ways than one)

We are Gods shooting stars. Bright, brilliant, captivating, and taking everyones attention as they fly. He loves us, chooses us, and moves us exactly where he wants to. The best part is, he never misses his target.