An Eclipse We Don’t Understand

I slipped out the door while the moon was still bright, full and glowing. Then I sat there in silence, while my family slept and my phone was tucked away. Sat like that for an hour, a blanket wrapped around me, a cup of coffee slowly growing cold in my hand. I watched while the moon changed from full to partially shaded, to more fully shaded, as the darkness slowly crept over its perfect shape. Then, almost completely covered, the shadow of it began to glow red as a tiny sliver in the corner still glowed silver. (That was my favorite.)

I sat in wonder as it grew more beautiful. Then it was fully covered, fully glowing, a new and different shade of amber. I (mostly) knew what was happening. It why I was up, and watching, but I thought, as I often do during celestial happenings, what did our ancestors think when this happened to them?

Surely some saw it-out on a hunt, restless and tired in bed, too cold in one season or blazing hot in another, up to soothe a baby or quiet an aching body or soul. What did they think? Were they afraid? Did it silence their soul in wonder, or terrify them in the same?

They probably had no container for the occurrence, at least not like we do. In the modern world, we know these things are coming. We hear about it in news for months prior. We prepare, set alarms, or wake up naturally. We read the articles. Thanks to some very smart people and smart devices and discoveries, we know about this now. We know what causes it, the exact precise lining up of planets and suns and moons. We know when it will start and how long it will last. We know mostly what to expect, and that helps make it wonderful, and amazing. Awe-inspiring, and not really scary at all.

You know, I can’t help but note the cross-over, of questions and wonder and probably deep fear and unsettling, that can occur in the less-than-celestial occurrences in our life. There are things that we people go through, that can feel a lot like this eclipse. The way we felt before we “knew” better, or more. Before we knew the cause, the duration, the meanings, the significance and the why. Before we knew it would only be temporary, and all right.

The loss of a loved one, the sudden change of plans, the lack of finances, the struggle in home or business, the unexpected visitors, the temporary setbacks or sickness or pain.

Yet, the same God who hung the stars and set everything in place, He was there. Before the eclipses came to pass. As it blocked the light for a while. While we waited. Before we understood. Before we know what to look for, how to understand in our human experience, and what container we should put this experience in- good or bad.

He was there. He is there. In the middle of the night, when things unexpectedly, or slowly, change. He is still there, and He knows it all. Including how our hearts beat more wildly in our chests.

He is there when we’re afraid, when we want to understand. He was there when it happened, when we tried to understand. Just as He’s here now when we think that we might. He doesn’t want us to be afraid. Not of what we don’t see, or what we don’t. Of what we don’t know or don’t understand yet.

Because He’s still there. God of the universe and keeper of the stars. He’ll keep our hearts, in perfect peace too, if we let Him.

The actual eclipse- the darkening, the changing of shape, the glow that feels so surreal, whether of the moon or something else- is not really that scary. It’s only our lack of understanding that can make it so.

It’s beautiful. IF we know that it’s okay, that we’re okay. Or going to be.

Friend, you might know by now that I’m not just talking about any lunar or solar eclipse. But maybe one that’s in your heart. A shifting, a changing that’s going on, and even a lining up of things, good or bad. I may not understand what eclipse you’re going through, but I do know that it’s going to be okay.

Because God is there with you. You’ve never been left alone. Even if you slipped outside in the dark, wondering what on earth and in the heavens was going on, God sees you, He reads your every heartbeat, and He still whispers, “Don’t be afraid, I see you, and I can be your friend. I can help you see.”

Change and shadows are scary when we don’t understand. Someday we will. Until then, hold on to hope. Let it hold you. Even if it feels only like that cold cup of coffee in your hand. I promise, it’s more.

Hope is there to hold you too, like a blanket, with love.
It’s okay, and going to be again, sometime, too.

GOD HAS NEVER LEFT YOUR SIDE.

(🌕🌔🌘🌖)