Something nudged me out of bed this morning, as the sky was just beginning to lighten. This celestial body calling my name?
I had but moments to snatch up my camera and dash out onto the back porch, barefoot and in my pjs. Shiveringly unsteady, nonetheless, you can see the smoldering moon slipping out of sight, my neighbor's house light tiny through the pines. Her nearly full face shown white cold as she moved steadily across the night sky in the company of stars and planets as far as the eye could see. But now her countenance flushed warmly as her starry companions faded. So swiftly she slipped into that deep pool that is the western horizon.
This Good Friday reminds me of so many in my youth and young adulthood, as the wife of a church musician and a young mother, in my maturity and now, yearning for a certainty of meaning and an underscore to my faith. This morning's observations cast light on my soul as surely as solar illumination reveals peaks and valleys of the moon. I'll ponder this throughout the day.