Dark side of the moon

A whole forest coated in crystal,

A tree laden down with it, these transient jewels of atmosphere and providence.

When the sun hides behind a curtain of glitter in the cold afternoon light,
and the moon flees to the dark clouds, leaving only a trail of it's blue light behind...

I feel it.
The cold.
Deep down.
Surrounded by cold.
And I am tempted to look for warmth.
To look for yellow light and gaeity, to find Christmas morn
safe in her little box of expectation, her little panorama of bliss.

What I see in these scenes, as the fleeting moon flies away and reappears as it dances with the clouds is something amazing: the grass on the hillside, lit briefly by the beams, dark and invisible when the moon flies high behind the clouds - that beauty, that grass, is still there invisible or not.

I've known this so long about God. He is always there, even when I can't see Him.

Now I learn it about something else. We live in a culture that is disposable. Disposable products, disposable relationships. Paper plates go in the trash, and marriages hit the shredder at the courthouse when they are through. It almost seems as if we can dispose of relationships. But it isn't true. Something happens when you love somebody - whether it's the homeless guy you pass on the street and loop-back to bring him a warm, fastfood meal, or the time you spent 7 years getting to know someone and finally calling them best friend. Your life will never be the same because of that relationship. You have been branded by it in your soul. I believe we will see those bonds and beautiful connections someday when we get to heaven.

I've lost friends over the past weeks. Our friendship now is in the shadows of the darkened moon. I can't call them up, or enjoy anything else that passes as friendship in this world. But you know what? The sinews of the Body of Christ are still there, even in the darkness. And someday they will be visible again. When the moon comes out from behind these clouds, I can't wait to see those sinews glistening - the sinew that holds me to you, beloved.

Today, I mourn you. The moon is behind the clouds.

Someday, I'll rejoice with you, for what God has wrought between us no man can destroy.