Moon

I wasn’t sleepy. Amber, Benjamin, and David were. It was a busy Monday and I didn’t have an opportunity to run during the day. So at ten o’clock I laced up my road shoes and went for a run.

Francis of Assisi wrote: “All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle.” The sun had set, but a brilliant full moon took care of the darkness. The moon doesn’t shine. It reflects the light of the sun. The darkness didn’t stand a chance. 

As I ran up the 173rd Street hill to start the run, I looked at the houses. Most of the people had the same idea as my family—sleep. A few lights were still on, but they were the dim type of lights. I know some of the neighbors. Others I don’t yet and maybe never will. But I do know the world we all live in. And this world can be pretty dark sometimes. But light—no matter how feeble, frail, or faint—always wins. It’s no wonder the Son tells us to reflect His light to the world.

I make it to the top of the hill. Four minutes into the run, I’m already sweating. The night is as warm and damp as it is quiet. I’m not alone. Somebody is near. I can’t see them nor can I hear them. I can only smell the smoke from their cigarette. It travels through the nighttime air much more efficiently than I made it up the hill. Chances are I don’t know the other person. Maybe I have seen them at the pool. Or maybe they go to The Water’s Edge. The other person and I seek our solitude and sanity in different ways. I hope they got to see the moon.

No music tonight. It wasn’t that kind of run. I prayed. I stopped and took a few pictures of the moon. I stopped for water. Up another big hill. I start breathing heavily and realize this hill is pretty insignificant. A mom is fighting cancer. A soldier is thousands of miles away from his family in a foreign land. A person is trying to quit smoking and just can’t quite do it. More prayer: For the church, for the people at my house sleeping, for the person walking their dog down the hill. And then I thought about a book I was reading last night from Augustine of Hippo and the phrases that couldn’t escape me: 

“Because God has made us for Himself, our hearts are restless until they rest in Him” and “There is no saint without a past, no sinner without a future.” Not bad for 1,600 years ago. 

An hour later I am a sweaty mess. I take the garden hose and cool-down my overheated body. I dry-off, go kiss the people and the dog who are sleeping, and am thankful that even though I wasn’t really tired, this sinner with a future found my rest in Him. 

The best is yet to come… 

Craig