Shadow of the Moon
“I don’t think people realize that there is no night out in space. There’s daylight 24 hours a day simply because there’s nothing to come between you and the sun. The first time you see night again is when you go into the shadow of the moon. And I think that the darkness there after three days of sunlight makes the stars exceedingly brilliant.”
—Jack Swigert, Apollo 13 Survival.
Image Description: The moon partly illuminated and partly hidden in shadows.
Not again. Please, not again.
A familiar weight tugs at my bones. My body feels heavy, and so does my mind. It’s the feeling I get when darkness starts spreading its inky hands throughout the entirety of my being. The energy it takes to move grows exponentially, and a cycle of familiar thoughts starts to orbit through my brain.
“Please, not again,” I whisper to an empty room—to God. I want to be happy, but my mind doesn’t follow my desires. It goes rogue and screams out my worst fears: Invisible. Unimportant. Not enough. Lost cause.
I try to rewrite the narratives with all of the good things I know to be true, but nothing quells the raging thoughts as they glue me to bed and tell me my story is over. Nothing will change.
I’ll often scroll through social media and watch shows to muffle the noise. One night, I put on a documentary about Apollo 13 without knowing the voice of God could crack through my strategy for distraction.
Halfway through the movie, an astronaut’s transmission cut through the heaviness as he talked about the shadow of the moon. The screen flashed through a series of images of the moon’s surface going from light to dark. Then, there were the stars. Brilliant, beautiful stars painted on a deep, dark canvas.
I knew God was speaking to me because of the tears that started blurring my vision. A beloved verse came to mind as I watched the stars glistening in the shadow of the moon: The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (Jn 1:5 ESV).
Even if the valley of the shadow of death is a shadow cast by my own mind, God’s light persists. I may not see the sunlight, but I can look up and find the stars glimmering in the midst of my darkest nights.
I can see the light in my husband’s eyes as he tells me he loves me.
I can see the light in a friend’s kindness.
I can see the light in a setting sun casting colors through a chameleon sky.
Because I am seen by the Father of Lights, and so are you.
We may not see the light in our minds, but the shadows are never devoid of stars that remind us there is goodness. There is life. There is love still shining bright.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
