“We have to go see it!” My dad tossed his phone on the ottoman, dead-set and stoked. “I was thirteen the last time this happened. Get the bikes.”
And so the hunt for the Supermoon began. The three of us–my mom, dad, and myself–peeled out on to the street 5 minutes later. It was strangely electrifying chasing the lunar phenomenon. I found myself stand-up pedaling like I was twelve again, speeding down 41st like me and my crew were on to something big.
I get it. It was “just” an eclipse and a blood moon at the same time but I like space and I like spontenaeity so level with me for a minute. The kid in me was reeling.
Anyway, we had no success with the bikes. We were too early–the moon hadn’t quite climbed above the trees and the rooftops. So we decided to go home and eat some applesauce (homemade mind you) and try again in an hour. But my dad was excited and we’re both impatient so we skipped applesauce and went straight to the part where we tried again.
But this time we took the car. The car with the moon roof. (Duh.)
We met more un-success and turned around once we were 10 minutes up the 50 east. We had resolved to actually eat applesauce this time and try again later. But not even twenty feet after exiting the freeway my dad hit the brakes.
The shadowy, red moon loomed huge and dark over a delapidated building to our left. Whether it had been too dark or too low to see before didn’t matter. Our childish excitement came exploding back to us and my dad took off again.
A few minutes later we were standing on an overpass with twenty other people who had it in mind to see this thing too. And it was the spot to spectate, let me tell you. The freeway offered a wide break in the trees and, from where we stood, the moon shone somewhere in the middle of that break. It was truly awesome. As if Mars or some alien orb had just stepped in front of our white satellite and stayed there for a bit. I don’t know how to describe it beyond that so I’m not going to try. Google it.
I don’t know about you, but something about nature really floors me. It’s humbling. I think it’s one of the ways Jesus reminds me that I’m tiny and he’s wonderful. To me, things like the Supermoon & Yosemite in its cold grandeur in the dead of winter & a quiet, grey coast have always felt like a fist full of wildflowers and a “Hey kid, let’s talk,” from the Creator of the Galaxy.
I am convinced He speaks to each one of us and romances each one of us in the ways we respond to best. He’s very personal, you know. And he hand-crafted each one of us so He gets it.
And standing there with my fingers hooked in the chain link fence, I realized (once again) that the same God who can paint the moon red for kicks is actively writing our stories. What’s really cool is he’s exponentially more creative than we could ever hope to be so this whole process is guaranteed to be pretty exciting.
Does it get you fired up? Because it kind of gets me fired up. The same inventive hands that made supermassive black holes made me and are orchestrating my life.
Let’s look at J.J. Abrams for a second. We all know he’s directing the new Star Wars movie and for those of us who are stoked about that I’d say it’s safe to say it’s because we recognize he’s got a pretty sweet repertoire. Star Trek, Mission Impossible, Super 8, Lost–just to name a few.
We’re familiar with his work so we know we can expect good things.
In light of this, I’m feeling like Jesus’s resume looks pretty stacked: Creation, redemption for humanity, rising from the dead. I’d say He’s wildly overqualified when it comes to taking care of us.
But honestly, I don’t always live like I know that. In fact, I often catch myself trudging around in worry and doubt. Which, as I sit here and think about it, is totally bonkers because the last year has been me watching Jesus throw down and prove time and time again that he is actually good, actually in control, and actually wanting the best for me. (And actually crazy about me despite my irrational stubbornness.)
He’s been showing up tangibly and speaking straight to my heart. A constant “I love you and I have you.” And despite my blockheaded, self-reliant tendencies, he’s stuck around.
And you know something I’ve noticed? Having tried both bitter stubbornness and hopeful expectancy, I can say with confidence the latter is a much better route. Marinating everything in apathy and “yeah, right” is a quick way to get stuck. But turning negativity into “thank you in advance” is a much happier thing.
It’s all perspective.
When we find ourselves hanging in uncertainty–when we have zero clue what’s ahead, we can either allow ourselves to be paralyzed in fear or we can focus on the facts.
The facts being: Jesus has the pen and he’s a dang good writer.
I mean, seriously now. He’s the King of plot twists and redemption. This is going to be great.
Below are some verses I’m trying to let really sink into my bones. They’re pretty sweet.
- “Look! I am the Eternal, the God of all living things. Is anything too difficult for Me?” -Jeremiah 32:27
- “Place your trust in the Eternal; rely on Him completely; never depend upon your own ideas and inventions.” -Proberbs 3:5
- “Commit your path to the Eternal; let Him direct you. Put your confidence in Him, and He will follow through with you.” -Psalm 37:5
- “In Jesus we hear a resounding “yes” to all of God’s many promises. This is the reason we say “Amen” to and through Jesus when giving glory to God.” -2 Corinthians 1:20