Our Shared Cosmos
By Jim McCrory
This winter morning in Scotland is cold and unforgiving in this deep quiet of darkness; I noticed the crescent moon. It was sharp and bold in its fullness of light; faithful to this winter day. In that narrow curve was a reminder that light does not disappear when it diminishes—it waits.
What stirred gratitude was knowing that this was the same moon seen across Europe. People in France, Germany, Spain, and Norway were under the same phase, even if they saw it at contrasting times, from different angles, or not at all because of cloud or shadow. The moon did not change; only our vantage did.
There is something spiritual in that constancy. We are separate, bounded by place and circumstance, yet quietly connected. I thought of Norwegian children heading to school and collecting a skolerboller on the way and rapped in layers against the cold. I thought of Icelandic farmers waking to frost-laden fields and wondering about their career choice. And there is the poets in Ireland finding, in that thin light, a line worth keeping. None of us marked the moment together, yet we shared it all the same.
In a mysterious world, the crescent moon offers a grand answer. That in the Creator’s eternal purpose we are reminded of his presence. And sometimes, that shared, unnoticed presence is reason enough to give thanks.