Over the past years, I’ve found myself falling more and more in love with the moon. (and you thought this would be a REAL romance...) Well, before you exit this page let me tell you a little about this romance story. (say what? this IS a romance? okay, maybe you WILL keep reading a bit further). =)
From the time I learned to name the heavenly beings, I must have known that the moon was a great, big, giant rock floating in the sky, with absolutely no ability to give light on its own. It was boring and dead, in my mind. That’s probably why i didn’t give it a second glance.
That is, until I was romanced. You see, as I got older, I realized that the moon’s light had to come from somewhere, and from somewhere, it did! From the brilliant blazes of the Sun, the moon reflects a clear, white sheen back to earth. A mere reflection of the amazing fire that warms the earth and guards the day. Yet, if it more than reflected the sun’s powerful glow, we wouldn’t be able to admire at it’s unique and intricate features, peruse it’s thoughtfully designed craters with our bare eyes. Which I so love to do.
Now, before you start to wonder about my sanity, I am not saying the moon romanced me, I’m saying that as I was romanced, I fell in love with the moon. You see, it was God who romanced me. He looked down upon this wicked, disgusting world, and found the most wretched creature therein. Then, he tenderly smiled and began to whisper words of love and comfort to her. Telling her she was loved SO MUCH that He had sent his dear son to die, so that she wouldn’t have to suffer under sin’s power forever. telling her she would be forgiven the trespasses committed against Him. Telling her that He longed to give her a place as his child. His very own daughter. That wretched creature was me.
I believed what He said, and oh, WHAT A CHANGE began. The world took on a new light, as I saw everything that HE had created for ME, though tainted by wickedness, it was still thoughtfully and wonderfully designed. I saw His love in the skies and in the trees of the earth. In the rushing waters and the quiet streams. In the fellowship of His other children, saved by grace, just as I was.
Not only was my view changed, but He promised to change my life. To turn me into a reflection of His son, Jesus. Jesus, you see, IS the image of God. We humans are made IN the image of God. We are reflections of Him. As I learn more about Him, I reflect those things to the world around me, I hope, demonstrating the love and grace he bestowed upon me.
Like the moon, who has no light of her own, still He has made us to shine.
He makes me shine. Isn’t this a lovely story?
Sara Groves, who is a positively inspired crafter of words, fashioned a song that goes like this:
You are the sun shining down on everyone
Light of the world giving light to everything I see
Beauty so brilliant I can hardly take it in
And everywhere you are is warmth and light
And I am the moon with no light of my own
Still you have made me to shine
And as I glow in this cold dark night
I know I can’t be a light unless I turn my face to you
Shine on me with your light
Without you I’m a cold dark stone
Shine on me I have no light of my own
You are the sun, you are the sun, you are the sun
And I am the moon
It put my exact feelings into words. I couldn’t have written them better myself.
I am still in awe over the fact that God in His glory stepped out of heaven to save me from myself. And I’m hopelessly in love with Him. Softly, ever so gently He brought me to himself, and as I turned toward Him, He made me to shine.
I’m in love.
Like the Moon, I shine because of the Son.
Isn’t it a beautiful story, what He did for me?
This is why I so love the moon! Every time I gaze into the heavens and see it shining so faithful and constant, I am reminded how faithful and constant God’s great love is toward me. Never will it cease. Even when clouds come, and dark storms pursue my life, to destroy me, He is still there shining. I am still His. and I am loved. Completely, hopelessly romanced by Him; a reflection of who He is.
I’m taken... and there’s no going back.
the work of your fingers, 
