The streetlights were on. The sun had retreated beneath the horizon and the moon had left its bunker and claimed the sky. I didn’t notice, other than the fact that the road was lit up by the headlights of our van. It was quiet in the vehicle, everyone else was preoccupied eating the ice cream we just got as a family. Suddenly, from behind me, a jovial scream cries out, “The moon! The moon!”
Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!
It was my two-year-old daughter who spotted the full moon out of the van window. She couldn’t contain her excitement at the beauty of the moon glowing like a beacon of hope in the otherwise black sky.
You have set your glory in the heavens.
You would have thought this was the first time she had ever seen the moon. Her response to seeing the unassuming sphere in the night sky was one of awe and wonder. Her little voice was elated with pure unadulterated excitement. The innocence and joy of a child. The thing that causes me to take pause, is I have heard those exact words before. I have heard them on multiple occasions, and I still remember hearing them from her mouth for the first time about six months prior. “The moon! The moon!” she yelled as she sat on my shoulders. This continues to happen as her innocent eyes behold the vast reaches of creation.
Through the praise of children and infants, you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.
It makes me wonder though, why I don’t look up at the moon anymore? I mean, I still do sometimes, if someone points out a rather breathtaking view. Even then, I don’t drop my jaw in amazement, I don’t feel small, I don’t even consider it to be wonderful. It’s just the moon. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t think I am alone in this realization. Sure, everyone has their breath taken away by the Grand Canyon, or feels small standing before the Rocky Mountains, or has their jaw drop in wonder as they take in the Northern Lights. But the moon? We all wander the streets beneath it distracted by the streetlights staring at our phones and never stop to look up and stare.
When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon, and the stars, which you have set in place
When one stops to think about these things, that feeling of insignificance returns even if it just for a moment. Sometimes, I find myself feeling like Job when God finally speaks, “Where were you when the foundations of the earth were laid?” Small, insignificant, terrified. How could the God, who created everything simply by speaking, care for me? How could God forgive me? How could God love me?
What is man that you are mindful of them, the son of man that you care for him?
Yet, look around you. If you can weed through the industrial riverfront, beyond that is the mighty Mississippi River. If you can stare through Chicago, beyond that is Lake Michigan. If you can look past Hollywood, the Redwood Forest awaits. While the feeling of insignificance can seem overwhelming, these things were created for your joy and pleasure. The beauty of creation is a gift that has become underappreciated. Even in its fallen state, it is glorious. Before our very eyes creation sings God’s praises. All around us are fingerprints of his goodness and mercy. If only I had the eyes of a child to see. So, from now on I will strive to stop and look at the moon more often and I hope you do too. I will hopefully look up from my phone, look up to the heavens, and while I might not cry out “The moon! The moon!” I will be reminded of the 8th Psalm, and I hope you are too.
Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!
