Bleeding LOVE.

"Arise, shine; for your light has come, And the glory of the LORD has risen upon you." Isaiah 60:1

We knew it was fall at our house when our mom took out the book about the little old lady who was not afraid of anything. The clomping shoes, the wiggling pair of pants, and the jack-o-lantern all came to life year after year in our living room! 

And while I loved the book, I never really connected with that little old lady, because for starters, I'm afraid of lots of things. This lady, who was followed home by all these spooky items, proceeds to open her door to them.  Even at seven, no ounce of curiosity could have gotten me to open the door in that scenario. 

Unknowns terrify me. 

The mystery. The thrill. This momentary leap of faith. It scares me. Perhaps that's why I'm constantly declaring I am ready to fall in love, but stay, standing on the edge, afraid. Perhaps that's why I worry when I have called my mom multiple times in a row to check in, and she hasn't answered. Perhaps that's why when I click the button to submit the blog, send the text, write the email, say the words; I hold my breath for a second in anticipation of the response. I fear the unknown. 

As work piled up around me and due dates approached I felt myself start to sweat, literally. My heart raced as I selected the calendar of due dates for the rest of the semester. Talk about the unknown?! My body tensed up and my mind went crazy as I looked at due date after due date...a giant abyss of unknowns. I could have got lost in there, in the questions of when I would do this all and what it even was...I could have cried and hyperventilated, because to be quite honest, that's just what I do. But I did not. I clicked close. I exited the page. And then I took a deep breath and looked at the present. Today, I had one job. Today I would complete the assignment that was due. And I would commit all my energy to that...the truth was that the rest of it, that big unknown, was just that...unknown...and it could wait. 

It was not an average thing that a dinner party would leave the table in the middle of a buzzing restaurant. It was not average at all. But you see there was this fancy science experiment going on outside and I'll be darned if we were going to miss it. The blood moon would appear from exactly this time to that time. We would stop shoving French Fries in ranch enough to see it. After all, this only happens once every so many years. The next time our generation would see it would be years from now when we are old and gray. So as the speakers above us played bleeding love, and busy cars swerved through the parking lot virtually unaware, we stood on the cement and looked up at an orange colored moon. 

God's beauty was there on display before our eyes. And as we looked up at the moon, I saw the fixed reminder of the only way to conquer the unknown: just sit there, still, in the middle of it. 

The moon has but one job. It takes its place in the sky each night reflecting the sun. That's it. Nothing more. Nothing less. It does not solve the world's' great mysteries, or light the day. It just reflects the number one source of light in this world, the sun. 

And me? What am I? 

Well I am just that, the moon. My job is simple. I reflect the SON. Nothing more. Nothing less. I can't solve all the worlds' problems, or bring light to every part of the world. 

I am not a constant bundle of joy or the perfect example of love. But, in my own way, I sit in the night sky, in the middle of a world clouded with darkness and I shine. I shine because God shines His light on me. The rest may all be unknown. These questions that confuse us, the ones we search to answer, they float there somewhere between the sun  and the moon. 

That night, as we stood on the cement, the heat still remaining from the sun, and looked at the moon, it glowed orange. The moon was in the shadows of earth. The sun was not hitting it directly. And you know what they call that, "The Blood Moon". The moment the moon was blocked from the sun, it was said to be bleeding. 

Sure there will be days when the earth, and its pleasures block me from Him, and bleed, in those moments, I might. The world tries time and time again to block His light from us. Even the daunting look of a syllabus, with too much to do, can accomplish that. But even on the days when the glorified busyness blocks my will to shine, I know my one job. So I'll spin myself around until His light hits my face and I'll beam. Because while there may be things left for me to do here on earth, none of them compare to my call to be a reflection of His light. 

That little old lady was brave. She didn't hide from the unknown. When it stood her in the face, she declared "I am not afraid". Those things that meant to scare her, became a beautiful part of her world. Sometimes, maybe that's how it is being the moon, we cannot always see how the unknowns matter, or what they mean, or if we should even open the door to them. I cannot always see when the sun is doing its thing, because quite frankly it's not my job to. After all, I'm merely the moon. 

But, then there are moments, like the one my brother lovingly showed me this morning, when the sun and the moon stand face to face, locking eyes across the clear blue skies. The moment when the moon has never looked so crisp and alive with light. Those moments, my moments with God, are enough to know the Son is doing His job, and because of that, I can do mine. 

God, if you are the sun, help me to be the moon.