Momma and the moon

I was driving home late last night... and by late, I mean it was actually past 8pm. I usually hate hate hate driving when it's dark out, especially now that my prescription glasses are failing me. Anyway, the moon was absolutely beautiful. It was a full harvest moon; the kind that's big, golden, and hangs low in the horizon. I remember the first time I saw one of these giant moons; I legitimately thought the world was ending. Anyways, several years later, I joyfully stopped at every red light, ready to gaze at the moon without risk of killing myself or nearby drivers. Yet, something hit me that I have not felt in years... or perhaps, never at all.

I found it oddly comforting to know that my mom could be looking at the same moon. I wondered if she was standing out on the front patio, like I had done so many times as a child, looking up into the sky. I remembered how at that house, Orion's Belt was so perfectly lined up with the corner of the roof during the spring, and then slowly shifted over the garage in the fall. The Big Dipper rose above the eastward neighbor's house with the yapping dog, and migrated above the crazy old lady's house. The ocean is to the east, and the "dirty water" is to the west. Still to this day, when I'm outside at night I imagine myself on that patio, looking up into the sky as a frizzy-haired, eight-year old girl.

I can see why people worship the moon, the stars, and the sun. It is comforting to know that they never change. I love knowing that every single pair of eyes on this earth can look at the exact same image that I am. It somehow unites us under this giant glittery blanket. The constellations are out of our control, and yet, we can predict when and where they will move; it's a steady pulse, much like the rhythm of a lullaby. I love knowing that wherever I go to study next fall, I will always be able to see the same stars as I saw as a child. I am excited for the day when I have children of my own who will look up into the sky in the same way I had done so many years before.

I wonder if my mom has ever looked outside and wondered if her daughter is looking at the same image, too... but I am not so certain that I want to know the answer. I wish that she knew there is a great big God who created all of this beauty. One who is so much greater than all of the stars in the sky. One who has risen, but never falls. One who has been, is, and will be, even after the moon and the stars disappear. One who wraps around the earth farther than the sea of blackness can. One who can stretch His arms out as far as the east is from the west. One who does not just give comfort, but is comfort.

Yeah, I wish she knew this kind of God. But until that day comes, I will drive in my car, admiring the moon, and praying to the One that made it all.