be the moon

Last weekend was our annual giant Easter night of worship at the Southern Kentucky Performing Arts Center, or SKyPAC, locally. It was amazing, as the first three years were, and the Holy Spirit showed up as the Holy Spirit has each time. Community came together, excellent music was made, tears were shed, lives were changed.

But I’m not here to talk about that. Not exactly, at least.

My friend Melissa is on Relay’s leadership team with me and is a fantastic musician. Seriously—you hear her play violin and you’re like, “okay, well that’s gorgeous.” And then you hear her play piano with as much beauty and finesse and draw the line. That’s too much talent for one person (I’m not coveting; I pinky promise). 

From where I stood in the choir this weekend, I could often see her face in the violin section of the orchestra. Naturally, the stage was organized around allowing the richest experience for those in the crowd. So, what I could see: the back of most of the orchestra’s heads; the conductor facing us; bright, bright lights; attendees worshipping in the house (because of this last one, many of the choir members agree we have the best seats in the house). What I couldn’t see: the amalgamation of the whole choir, orchestra, rhythm section, screens, and lights.

Throughout the evening, though, Melissa would look around and take in the whole scene of the stage and her face would glow. 

A video played giving a brief rundown of who Relay is and the amazing work God is allowing us to do, and she glowed. And to be clear, at these moments, she was facing toward the screen (and me in the choir) and away from the audience and therefore it was not a performative facial put on for those watching, but a genuine overflow of feelings inside.

At the risk of putting words in her mouth, what I read on her face was a combination of joy, love, pride in Jesus, and the satisfaction of a job well done.

And even though I couldn’t see the video behind me, and I couldn’t see all the glory of the other amazing things going on around me, her glow made me glow. 

She was a moon for me.

Ok, hear me out. Ya know those nights where the sky is clear, the air is crisp and clean, and a new moon reflects the sun so much so that it gives the Earth light? 

The joy on her face was so bright that it made me feel the very same joy, even though I couldn’t see the reason for her joy. Doesn’t that sound a little like our lives as followers of Christ? Here are three big observations I have with that:

1. Be a moon. Fill yourself with Christ so much that you can’t help but light up the people around you. Even if they can’t see or don’t know Jesus, that’s ok. They don’t have to. You’re so enthralled with Him, they see Him in you, and your glow makes them glow. Be light in the darkness. The world doesn’t know how desperately it needs it—how desperately it needs you to be Him to them.  

2. If you can’t be a moon, can’t see the light, then surround yourself with moons. Sometimes, we’re just not capable of glowing, regardless of effort. The clouds of depression, anxiety, addiction, grief, etc. etc. etc. are real. But do not allow yourself to suffer alone. You need your own Melissas in your life to reflect Jesus to you so that even when you can’t feel it, go through the motions, or maybe even doubt the existence of a god, you have people to give you light. Christ followers are not immune from that world-not-knowing-how-desperately-it-needs-the-light thing.

3. You are not the sun. Do not fool yourself into thinking you are the origin of Light and Love. We have Christ in us, but we are not ourselves Christ. We humans are pretty infamously good at thinking we’re in control. The Devil loves it when we think we pull the strings; but if that were true, we’d have no need for Jesus. We must remind ourselves, especially when things are going well, we are only reflecting the love and glory of Jesus. Find spiritual habits that put you in your place and Him in His rightful one. Thank Him daily. Thank Him with every breath.

So, go forth. Be a bright moon for the people around you—your coworkers, your family, your friends, your restaurant servers. Or, if you’ve found yourself trudging alone and each day feels like a clouded night, go find your people. They’re out there. Jesus never intended us to do this thing alone.

Find your moon.