Chasing the Moon

I just returned from an adventure. Makayla, Olivia, Makenzie and I chased the moon. When we caught it rather close to a Starbucks, I considered indulging in a late night decaf coffee binge. But we were too wound up. Yogli Mogli with toppings sufficed instead.

It all started last night when I saw the moon as we drove to a service downtown. The sighting reminded me that I'd read something about a super moon appearing this week. A Google search confirmed my suspicion and the desire to watch a much larger-than-normal-moon-rise churned inside.

But church distracted me.

However, after the evening service, Don and I chatted with Makayla and Olivia. And right before we left, Makayla blurted, "We need to get together."

Since their mom and I were good friends, and I felt their loss when she died two years ago, my answer came swift.

"I know," I started, "Let's watch the moon rise tomorrow night. Are you free?"

"Yeah!" they both agreed.

"Do you know that neighborhood, The Summit, near Publix?" Makayla asked.

Unsure, I listened close as she explained the directions. Familiar with the place, we agreed to touch base this morning. And before noon, we had a plan.

When I got a text that they were running late, I headed up the summit alone. The ritzy neighborhood road led me up a small mountain I didn't even know existed. Half-way up, I looked to the west, enthralled by the wide-open view. 

At the highest point, I discovered an unfinished home with an unfinished lookout. A couple stood where I longed to go but couldn't dare on a knee-scooter. Soon however, a black SUV drove up and the driver informed us she was about to lock a gate further down. 

Disappointment seeped in. But after pulling out my iphone compass and realizing that the panoramic view looked south rather than east, we devised another plan.

Makayla, Olivia, and Olivia's friend, Makenzie, drove back down the steep incline in search of a view of the eastern sky, to no avail. 

So when I caught up with them, I led the charge, "Follow me," I commanded. "We'll head to The Avenue."

And they did.

They followed me in traffic as I watched minutes tick by on my car clock. They stayed close after I turned onto the four-lane highway and later headed into an unfinished strip mall. 

When we still could't find the moon, they followed me back onto the main drag, through an elevated Kroger parking lot that leads to a small strip mall and beside a Mexican restaurant. From there we turned right and then left back onto the main highway again. 

It was then that I began to wonder if my timing was off. Or if the moon was lost. Or if all had been for naught.

But just a few minutes later, it finally happened. I caught my first glimpse of the reddish moon and pulled over into a bank parking lot not far from a Target.

It was far from the picturesque scene I'd envisioned. Street lights and tail lights permeated the dark. But we'd chased the moon and finally found it.

Three giggling girls piled out of their car, unloaded my scooter, and then joined me as we made our way toward the moon for a few photos. 

A few weeks ago, a Facebook friend with a very rare autoimmune disease (that both of her young children also battle) wrote about how she felt convicted to try something new every day for thirty days. 

Limitations often suffocate those of us whose fragile bodies demand rest. So making plans and sticking to them feels unrealistic. 

In Linda's case, she made plans to have lunch with a friend one day, only to wake up with a very sick child. Her "something new" for that day was to simply to stick with her lunch plans instead of waiting for the doctor's call, and to leave her child with her husband even though her worried heart wanted to stay close. 

Inflamed lungs would've slow my step. But she maintained her stride that day and broke a little free.

Her determination has stirred something in me as I heal. Instead of focusing on my limits, I keep trying to do something different. Just a little different. Like chasing the moon with Makayla, Olivia, and Makenzie.

As we savored our yogurt in a slight outdoor chill, hearts opened and stories were shared. Chasing the moon had been fun. But communicating heart to heart added a richness to the evening even the biggest moon couldn't touch. 

We held hands and prayed before going our separate ways and I looked Makenzie in the eye and said, "You are the one Jesus loves."

It's a thing at our church these days. A statement our pastor recently made from the pulpit before asking us how comfortable we were with the idea. (If you don't believe me, listen to the sermon posted at the very end.)

Way back in September he asked if we could say it. Believe it. And even live it.

Try it. Say, "I am the one Jesus loves."

Does it make you nervous? Doubtful? Afraid of becoming self- centered?

Don't be.

When our awareness of His love is rooted in the reality of our brokenness, it grabs hold in a way that makes it easy to then say, "You are the one Jesus loves."

Our church is currently partnering with another downtown, so I'm trying out a new t-shirt design and all the proceeds will go to Hope Chapel.

So check them out below. Think Christmas. And go chase the moon.

Because you are the one Jesus loves.

Both designs are available at this link: Susan's Teespring Store

Romans: Part 4 from Sanctuary on Vimeo.