Be the moon
This past Sunday was a beautiful day. We had seven inches of snow dumped by a winter storm the day before, but Sunday dawned with a clear blue sky and a waning gibbous moon shining brightly in the sky.
My heart was heavy as I drove to church thinking of all the people I know who are suffering. A single mom, recovering from RSV but still going to work because she needs to make ends meet. A couple who just lost their first baby shortly after birth. Couples contemplating divorce. A family who just lost their dad in a tragic helicopter crash. Another family whose dad is detained in an African country on wrongful accusations.
Usually this time of year is filled with the little joys of twinkling lights and baking cookies, of gatherings with friends and family, sledding in freshly fallen snow, and cozy evenings by the fire. While all things are still present and do bring me joy, this year I carry the weight of all those who are suffering. The “extra special” feelings that are supposed to come at this time of year only serve to accentuate their heartache and suffering and probably make them feel especially isolated.
And as I was talking this over with the Lord, He drew my attention to the moon. I noticed how radiant it was, reflecting the light of the sun. Below it there was a thick layer of fog. And it struck me as a pretty accurate picture of our calling as those who hope in Jesus.
This world feels covered by a thick fog. So much heartache and struggle and confusion. So many lost and without hope and it is hard for them to find their way through it. But above that fog the moon is shining bright. We, like the moon, reflect the light of the sun (Son). We have the hope of Jesus that this world is desperately searching for and it’s our job to shine bright with His radiance. A beacon of hope above the fog.
True, the moon can’t burn away the fog. But the sun can. I tend to become overwhelmed, wanting to fix all the problems and sooth all the hurt. I’m not able to do that. But He is. My job isn’t to bustle about and serve myself into exhaustion. And I don’t need to become discouraged. My job is to carry these burdens to Jesus, to reflect His light, and be a beacon of hope.
After all, that’s what this season is all about. More than lights or baking or winter fun or cozy fires, this season is about hope. Hope has come. Let’s go tell it.