Tonight I sat outside to look at the moon. I miss the moon. It’s been awhile since I’ve taken a deep drink of it. Gazing at it through the crooked limbs of a gigantic tree in the backyard, I just sat silently soaking in the cool Georgia night. The limbs of the tree I was looking through twisted and turned, every so often presenting leaves to mesh the sky that I was peering at as best I could. The tree in my cousin’s backyard is condemned, and while I have no idea what makes a tree condemned, it’s a shame because it is phenomenal in its organic majesty. Not the kind of majesty like a king, or the Boston Pops Symphony blaring out “Joy to the World;” it’s more like the kind of majesty that is that way just because of the way it commands the landscape. Simple. Quiet. Majestic.
Out of the pantry of randomnimity, my mind began to drift into thinking what the specifications where for cross wood, back around the turn of BC to AD. (Yes, I didn’t see that thought coming either, but seriously) Would they make the crosses out of condemned trees? My guess is that the people given the task to make crosses, probably didn’t toil under the thought of the gravity of any spiritual or philosophical meaning while on working on the clock. Of course, in Galatians 2:13 it says, “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: ‘Cursed is everyone who is hung on a tree.'” So even if the tree was not cursed, the very act was. Regardless, that tree was utilized as the arrow to shoot into the heart of mankind, and even now, into my heart.
“Here I am, humbled by Your majesty…” are the lyrics of a worship song we were singing tonight, and it is fitting. All stripped away, just me, God, and the moon; I shutter to think of the exact weight of the moment. Really, the Creator of the Universe…created the moon…created me…wants me….likes me…desires a relationship with me 100 times more than I could ever begin to want one with Him. In the swimming of eternity, I am speechless and lost in a sea that I can’t even seem to stay afloat in. In the twirling of mystery lingering in the night sky, I am lost…and just possibly, I may never find myself again.