On the day the Lord gave the Amorites into the power of Israel, Joshua spoke to the Lord . . . “Sun, stand still at Gibeon! and Moon, at the Aijalon Valley!” The sun stood still and the moon stood motionless until a nation took revenge on its enemies. —Joshua 10:12–13 (CEB)
Our telescope is down from the loft in the barn, set up on the lawn, and positioned at a perfect angle to the sky. The boys want me to wake them if there’s a good view. My husband snores, and I am watching the clock, which reads 3:05. Outside a rare lunar eclipse is happening.
I stare into the darkness, searching for the “blood moon” that the news has hyped, but it’s obscured by a blanket of clouds. I look and look, waiting for a break, a slight glimpse of the phenomenon, and I think of Joshua’s prayer for the sun to stand still—an impossible prayer that was answered nonetheless.
I look into the early morning sky and think of the many impossible prayers I’ve prayed staring out this bedroom window during dark times in my life, when fear and worries about health and family kept me awake.
Right now is different. I’m overcome by how peaceful it is, how grateful I am to be here, enjoying this sacred space, this darkness. And even though I’m missing the celestial event, I feel close, so very close, to God, as if anything is possible, as if a miracle is happening—and it is.
Heavenly Father, thank You for this beautiful unexpected moment of knowing Your incredible love in the deepest places of my heart.
Digging Deeper: Romans 8:37–39, 1 John 3:1
