The night is coming, gliding on the cool aired evening, unfurling its cape of stars, sweeping the last of daylight before it, spreading out shadowed fingers, bringing the silence. Whatever has been will be for one night longer. Let go of care either real or imagined, give in to the stillness of the mother moon, breathe in rhythm with the tides, falling ever so quietly into the arms of peace. Be healed by the night, this ancient sister of the sun, who calls you home, to hearth and haven, safe in the sheltered arms of what is holy, sung to sleep, where dreams dance till dawn, and angels watch as they have watched for a thousand years. (Bishop Steven Charleston)
Each year at this time I love to sit under the night sky’s canopy. The cooling fall air most certainly encourages this annual practice. Drawn to night-after-dusk, I can be found reclined in my wheelchair searching for the furthest star – child-like in wonder and awe.
I wake this early morning of September 11, and remember. This day, 12 years ago, we watched in dis-belief as our skies filled with pain and devastation. It was a day completely out of our control. A day when things unknown and unimaginable would change our lives forever.
This morning I look into that same sky, large enough to be filled with wonder and danger – I honor the many people whose lives were lost, whose hearts were broken, and who gave all they had to aid with compassion, prayer and strength.
It is September 11- a day to remember. The sky above is humbling in its vast expanse. I am grateful it is large enough to hold all the memories and prayers that will be offered like “…whispers that pass between the stars…” on this day. Let us take a moment to look up and remember all the innocence surrendered. May God extend mercy and peace.
(quote by Steven Charleston)
Like many others, I spent time in August looking into a night sky filled the trails of falling stars. Watching for those magical streams that glide across the sky can be a child-like experience. There is nothing more exciting than to pay attention to the sky in the dark of night. It is so vast, so mysterious. When I was young I remember asking my father if he thought there was any life beyond this earth as we looked into a sky of twinkling lights. His answer will always stay with me, “…having created all this beauty and wisdom, why would God stop here?”
As I looked into the night’s canopy last month, remembering that conversation with my father, I took in its beauty and felt that same thrill when a star would stream before me.
There have also been times when the night sky has felt too large, out of my control, filled with things unknown, creating a sense of uncertainty and fear.
It is early morning and this year has brought us, once again, to September 11- a day eleven years ago when we awoke to watch our skies fill with objects of devastation instilling the greatest sense of sadness and fear. It was a day completely out of our control. A day when things unknown and unimaginable would change our lives forever.
Today I will look into that same sky, large enough to be filled with wonder and danger – I will look and remember the many people whose lives were lost, whose hearts were broken, and who gave all they had to aid with compassion, prayer and strength.
With eyes wide open, I remember all these things and give thanks for a sky large enough to hold all the prayers of God’s people. In faith we move forward, humbled and awakened.
I walk by faith, but I do not walk with my eyes closed. Faith does not mean I am blind to the world around me. In fact, just the reverse. Faith makes me even more aware of reality. It opens my eyes to hunger, poverty, injustice and prejudice. It offers me a vision of the beauty of creation and demands that I be held accountable for preserving that vision. I see God alive and active all around me. I am a witness to the living truth of a love so clear I cannot look away. Walk by faith and you walk with eyes wide open both to what is without and to what is within. (from Bishop Steven Charleston at Native American & Indigenous Ministry in Episcopal Church)