What If Faith Looks More Like the Moon Than We Realize?
Embracing God’s process through every phase, bright, dim, and in-between
There’s a reason I keep coming back to the moon.
Every week, every season, every chapter of my life, no matter what’s shifting under my feet, the moon rises. Sometimes bold and bright, sometimes thin as a whisper, sometimes hidden behind clouds I can’t see through. But it’s there. It’s always there.
This week, as I stepped outside to capture the image you see above, I felt that familiar tug in my chest, the reminder that the moon’s consistency isn’t just astronomical. It’s spiritual. It’s personal.
Because if I’m honest, there are days when my faith feels steady and days when it feels shaken. Days when I trust easily, and days when I’m just trying to put one foot in front of the other. But the moon doesn’t ask me to have it all together. It simply shows up, night after night, doing what it was created to do.
And in that quiet rhythm, I hear God’s voice.
Scripture tells us that “His faithfulness reaches to the skies.” I’ve read that verse a hundred times, but standing under this week’s moon, it felt less like poetry and more like a promise. God is constant, even when I’m not. God is steady, even when my thoughts are scattered. God is present, even when I’m wrestling with the process He’s laid out in front of me.
The moon doesn’t rush. It doesn’t force its phases. It moves at the pace it was designed for. And maybe that’s the invitation for us too.
To trust the slow work of God.
To believe that even when we can’t see the whole picture, He’s still guiding the path.
To remember that faith isn’t about never struggling, it’s about returning, again and again, to the One who never changes.
So here’s this week’s moon, simple, faithful, steady. A reminder that God’s constancy isn’t fragile. It isn’t dependent on our mood or our momentum. It’s written into creation itself.
And on the nights when life feels heavy or uncertain, all we have to do is look up.
So with that, I close and remind you to always keep looking up,
Greg