“Mah moo?” “mah moo” (my moon).
Between pizza, cars, books, and cookies, little William periodically took my hand and guided me to the kitchen window, raising his arms for me to lift him up to see the sliver of moon in the cold, black autumn sky.
At this point he still shares readily and isn’t too possessive—except that he believes the moon belongs to him. And beyond our reflections in the window, he points and repeats, “mah moo” in his soft, little voice.
According to Genesis God did give us the moon as a light in the night. And isn’t it amazing how it can reflect the sun’s rays from behind the earth, and brighten a shadowy world?
The moon may seem a little thing, but it is not. Though we’ve seen it from our earliest days, it’s a light in the darkness where there is no light; it guides the tides of the seas; it helps keep our world in place, and it piques the wonder of a small child.
The Elizabethans believed that the world was only fallen from the moon to the earth. Beyond the moon lay perfection, the realm of God and angels—as pure as the first breath of Creation’s moment.
But, God does not just reside beyond the moon. His omnipresence enfolds us, indwells us. It is a mystery. And His Spirit brings comfort and light—even if only a sliver—in the dark days—for days, too, can be as black as a moonless sky.
To see the reflection of God through the wonder and eyes of a child—
Do you see? Do you see Him?
Lift your eyes tonight. Lift them to the night sky and remember, remember it’s a signature of his love in the dark. Look up and behold mah moo.