There is a moment that comes every day. It often goes unnoticed as we rush about in our frantic doing, but it calls us silently with its color song, simple and sacred. We hardly hear it–the day melting into night. Sometimes there is the lightest shade of pink and sometimes an almost garish beauty. It’s the moment when light falls away to dark.
And suddenly we are walking by starlight.
This sparkly wonder doesn’t mask night’s blackness; in fact, its unique glory shines best in the darkest dark.
Two years ago on this day Marissa was given a positive diagnosis of breast cancer. It felt very much like being thrust into an unlit night. Confused and frightened, we stumbled on the unexpected path. Perhaps there were clouds, because I don’t remember the stars shining.
Yes, there were definitely clouds for awhile.
And looking back, I could choose to look only at the blackness. I could remember only the dark and the fear, and I could be swept away in the force of despair.
I could remember only the falling.
But I remember the stars. I remember that there was enough light for every step. I remember the color and the beauty and the rescuing. I remember peace beyond comprehension.
I remember God. I remember His felt presence. I remember an awareness of His power and keeping grace. I remember being lifted when weary.
I remember singing in the night.
I choose to remember the starlight.
He who made the Pleiades and Orion, and turns deep darkness into the morning and darkens the day into night, who calls for the waters of the sea and pours them out on the surface of the earth, the LORD is his name. Amos 5:8
All the paths of the LORD are steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his covenant and his testimonies. Psalm 25:10