Count the Stars

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Picture this: You're 75 years old when God first promises you'll become the father of a great nation. Now you're pushing 100, still childless, and your wife Sarah has long since stopped laughing at the impossibility of it all—except now she's laughing at it. Your servants whisper behind your back. Your neighbors probably think you've lost your mind. Yet there you stand under a blanket of stars, listening to God repeat the same wild promise He's been making for decades. This is Abram's reality in Genesis 15, and it reveals something profound about what it means to live by faith when everything around you screams that God has forgotten His promises.

Let’s take a moment to read Genesis 15:1-6:

After this, the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision: “Do not be afraid, Abram. I am your shield, your very great reward.”

But Abram said, “Sovereign Lord, what can you give me since I remain childless and the one who will inherit my estate is Eliezer of Damascus?” And Abram said, “You have given me no children; so a servant in my household will be my heir.”

Then the word of the Lord came to him: “This man will not be your heir, but a son who is your own flesh and blood will be your heir.” He took him outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars—if indeed you can count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.”

Abram believed the Lord, and he credited it to him as righteousness.

REFLECT

Abram had been walking with God for years when this conversation happened. He'd left everything familiar, survived famines, rescued his nephew Lot, and even had a mysterious encounter with Melchizedek. But the one thing that mattered most—the child God had promised—remained absent. In verse 2, we hear Abram's raw honesty: "Lord God, what will you give me since I remain childless?"

There's no sugar-coating here, no fake spirituality. Abram is essentially saying, "God, I've been faithful, but I'm running out of time and hope." Haven't we all been there? Holding onto promises that feel more like cruel jokes as months turn into years, and years stretch into decades?

What's remarkable about Abram isn't that he never doubted—it's that he kept showing up for conversations with God despite his doubts. He didn't storm off or give up; he brought his questions directly to the Promise Maker Himself.

God's response is breathtaking in its simplicity and scope. He doesn't give Abram a timeline or explain the delay. Instead, He takes him outside and says, "Look up at the sky and count the stars—if indeed you can count them. So shall your offspring be" (verse 5).

Think about what God was doing here. He wasn't just making a promise about quantity—He was painting a picture of legacy, beauty, and wonder. Every time Abram looked up at night (which would be every single night for the rest of his life), he would see God's promise written across the heavens. The stars became God's daily reminder that His word endures even when circumstances haven't changed.

God knew Abram needed something bigger than his immediate situation. He needed to see his life from heaven's perspective, where one man's faith could light up the darkness for generations yet unborn.

Here's where the story takes a stunning turn. Verse 6 tells us that "Abram believed the Lord, and he credited it to him as righteousness." This wasn't Abram finally getting his theology straight or performing some religious ritual perfectly. This was a man who simply took God at His word despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

The Hebrew word for "believed" here is aman—the same root we get "amen" from. It means to lean your full weight on something, to stake your life on it. Abram didn't just intellectually agree with God's promise; he anchored his entire future to it.

What's revolutionary is that God counted this faith—not perfect obedience, not flawless morality, not religious achievement—as righteousness. Abram was made right with God not by what he did, but by whom he trusted.

Abram's story teaches us that faith isn't a one-time decision; it's a daily choice to live as if God's promises are more real than our current circumstances. For 25 years, Abram had to wake up every morning and choose to believe that God's "yes" was still yes, even when his body and Sarah's body were screaming "impossible."

This is where many of us struggle. We want our prayers answered on our timeline, with our preferred methods, in ways that make sense to our limited perspective. But Abram shows us that mature faith learns to live in the tension between "God said it" and "I don't see it yet."

The beauty is that during those long years of waiting, Abram wasn't wasting time—he was becoming the kind of person who could father a nation. God was developing his character, deepening his trust, and preparing him for a blessing bigger than he could have imagined at 75.

Today, thousands of years later, Abram's offspring—both physical and spiritual—truly are as countless as the stars. Every person who has ever lived by faith is part of this promise fulfilled. We are living proof that God's word to Abram wasn't empty.

When your own promises from God feel ancient and your hope feels fragile, remember that the same God who kept His word to Abram is keeping His word to you. His timing may not match your timeline, but His faithfulness spans generations.

RESPOND

Take a moment to process what God might be leading you to do in light of what you read.

• What promises from God are you still waiting to see fulfilled, and how might your perspective change if you viewed the waiting period as preparation rather than delay?

• Like Abram, when have you had to choose between what your circumstances were telling you and what God had promised you? How did you navigate that tension?

REST

Take a moment to rest in God’s presence and consider one thing you can take away from your time reading, then close your devotional experience by praying:

Father, like Abram, we confess that sometimes Your promises feel distant and our hope grows thin. Help us to anchor our faith not in what we can see, but in who You are. When we're tempted to doubt, remind us that You are the God who keeps every promise and that Your timing is always perfect. Give us the courage to live as if Your word is already accomplished, even when we can't yet see the stars You've promised. Amen.