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Moonlight Sonata

I feel like a blog bum. Part of me wants to just put up an audio of crickets chirping. Lately, though, my days are filled with bleary eyed-dinner making and box unpacking and way too many decisions about whether or not to keep the sculpture I made in my college ceramics class of an egg sitting in a tree that actually looks more like a certain part of the male anatomy than the surrealist art is was supposed to be. (It's in a trash box right now.) On top of this, I still have no Internet at home, so my typical wee hours of the morning posting time is mute (or is it blind?).

There's a lot in my head right now, but not enough time to process it. Last night, I took the puppy out for a hike. In my front yard. We walked across the road frontage and I stared at the stars. The night sky is one of the best features of my new neighborhood. We're surrounded by a giant farm and wildlife preserves, so the sky is incredible! When I was a kid, I used to drag a blanket outside and lay down under the stars whenever I needed to get away. It may have had something to do with the fact that my dream was to be an astronaut and soar in that black expanse, but I have always...always felt an odd connection to the night.

Last night I followed my usual sky routine. I looked for whatever planet is visible. Then I found Orion. And the Big Dipper. I think I even saw Pleades. As I stared, my mind wandered back to the ancients who stared at the very same stars. My mind cannot even wrap itself around the idea that countless souls have looked at the very same twinkles of light that I saw.

With my head tilted back, I said, "I feel so broken right now. I look in the mirror and see cracks and bumps and gashes. And it's all left me empty." Suddenly, I felt known then. I'm a part of something bigger than myself. It's like God Himself wrapped His arms around me and let me know that my life is a miracle. Even though I feel like a failure most of the time these days. Even though I feel purposeless and lifeless.

I suppose that was all I needed for the moment. His grace is sufficient.

(I'll put up pictures soon, I promise!)

Comments

Christy said…
I can hear your weariness. I'm glad that God revealed Himself to you in that moment. I pray He continues to be sufficient for you.

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