Today is October 1. Happy October 1!
It's time to reflect back on what I learned last month, what I learned in September.
I learned a new Bible verse. I like it from the New Living Translation:
I pray that God, the source of hope,
will fill you completely with joy and peace
because you trust in Him.
Then you will overflow with confident hope
through the power of the Holy Spirit.
I printed this verse on a sheet of paper, and I carry it from here to there and back.
I learned a bit about blood moons. Or are they Blood Moons? I find it interesting that we had a blue moon in July and a blood moon in September. The blue moon was yellow, and the blood moon was brownish red. Blood moons are a result of a lunar eclipse, when the earth orbits into a position directly between the sun and the moon. The earth is not large enough to block the sun's light completely, and the rays that bend around the edges of the earth have the longest wavelengths, giving the moon a reddish appearance.
We watched a documentary about blood moons, but it was very poorly executed and I would not recommend it.
We watched the blood moon itself on Sunday night, September 27, 2015. It lasted from 9:11 until 10:23. Of course, we did not stay out on the driveway the whole entire time, but we watched its bright edge slip away, and then we watched it for awhile longer. Shannon texted me while we were observing this astronomical wonder. "Isn't it cool that we're both looking at it?" she texted. Indeed. There she was, outside her house in Massachusetts, and here we were, on our driveway in Illinois, both gazing upwards at the same real, physical thing. What a nice feeling.
I think a month is, perhaps, a rather ambitiously short time in which to try to learn something. I continue to learn about waiting and hoping. I continue to learn about my responses to unexpected life events: company acquisitions, new jobs, new insurance benefits, new doctors. I continue to learn how far I have yet to go.
I learned how very weak I am. I had a spell, when multiple issues and circumstances, disappointments, worries and struggles, all piled up on me at once. I'd thought I was doing better, and then suddenly everything tanked. There I was, in my quiet spot before Jesus, except His face was hidden and I had no words, no pulsing in my heart to pray. How to describe it? It was almost as though I couldn't believe; my faith was stopped up. Can you feel frantic and filled with concrete at the same time?
I learned that Jesus leads people to pray for us when we cannot pray for ourselves. And while they are praying, Jesus can drag you through your shower and get you dressed when you don't have it in you to do it yourself, when you can't even sense His presence at all.
When you can't even imagine the effort it's going to take to get that sock over your foot, and then you find yourself miraculously fully dressed, driving your vehicle down the highway to the next thing, and you have no idea how it happened, but your tears are dry and you're rationally reflecting on your responsibilities for the day.
It isn't the miracle you were hoping for. You wanted June back, a fleet of nurses and cosmetologists to pamper and massage, a month at the beach. A chocolate sundae. A free roof. Healed body, healed spirits, healed hearts, shortened distances. Heaven on earth. That's what you wanted.
You were given the ability to get dressed and walk out of your house to face the day, and that is the miracle you need to be grateful for, because it is more of a miracle than you know.