This week seems to be all about the moon. Full moon. Blood moon. Super flower moon. Moonbin rode a bike with training wheels (social media makes us dumber). And I even came back across the moon walk episode of The Crown.
The moon can somehow be mysterious and comforting and ominous all in one week, or maybe even all at the same time. As a young person first reading and absorbing the not-so-common parts of the Bible, I was absolutely terrified by the thought that the “the sun will turn into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes.” More recently, I’ve read Goodnight Moon to my girls hundreds of times – Ella always loved saying goodnight to the cow jumping over the moon and Audrey liked the little old lady whispering hush.
Audrey and I stare at the moon sometimes as we talk at night, especially if her day has been a day. One great lesson the moon teaches is that we often only see one part of a thing – whether it’s waxing or waning in a clear or cloudy sky, we tend to focus only on the parts of things or times or people or situations that we can see, or that we want to see. And sometimes we do that even when we know there is so much more just beyond our current focus or line of sight.
And then there’s the moon’s surface filled with craters, the result of space stuff colliding into it over however many thousands or gazillions of years, that reminds us that we can take a pretty severe series of hits – physically or mentally or spiritually – and still survive. Our scars, like those craters, bear witness to our strength and resilience and character.
The moon is something the whole earth has in common. That people of all languages and locations and terrains and beliefs have in common. That humanity has in common. People all over the world look up at the same moon.
We all share the moon.
We all seek its light.
The moon is a reminder that we are all a part of something a little bigger. That we are tiny and the world is vast. That sometimes the situations we think are insurmountable are actually very small.
All of us that look up toward the sky to see the moon are more alike than we are different. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say we’re more alike as it relates to the core things. We want to live in safety and peace. We want shelter and food. We want to be loved and to be treated well. We want to be happy (and our saying for that is over the moon!)
As I catch up on the news from around the world tonight, I can’t help but think about all the other people looking up.
Goodnight to those facing sickness; may your bodies and minds find healing, and may you know you are not alone.
Goodnight to those facing the impact of gun violence; may you be comforted.
Goodnight to those listening for noises that mean danger; may you stay safe.
Goodnight to those who are confused; may you find clarity.
Goodnight to those who fear or are anxious; may your mind be at rest.
Goodnight to those who are sad, for reasons you know or don’t know; may you find joy.
Goodnight to those who are angry; may you be filled with love.
Goodnight to those who don’t have provisions; may they find you or you find them.
Goodnight to all the helpers; may blessings chase you down.
And goodnight moon. May all who look upon you this night sleep peacefully.