Why is it, O sea, that you flee? O river, that you turn back? O mountains, that you skip like rams? Tremble, O earth, at the presence of the Almighty, who melts rocks into water. – Psalm 114:5-8 (adapted)
Of the many wonders of Artemis II’s mission, one was its flight path toward the moon. In order to circle the moon successfully, Artemis II had to chart a course toward where the moon wasn’t. It had to set its trajectory toward an empty point in space, trusting that the moon in its ever-shifting orbit would arrive at that point precisely when Artemis II arrived for its lunar flyby.
Very much like passing a soccer ball toward an empty space on the field, confidently setting the ball on its path toward no one, trusting your teammate to run into the open space where the ball is going.
Or like jumping into a seat on the spinning teacup ride at the amusement park … while the whole ride is in motion … while each teacup spins at a unique pace. (Kids, don’t try this at home.)
What if the teacup ride malfunctions? What if your teammate gets tackled on their run? What if a solar flare short-circuits the space vessel?
What if the seas flee? What if the mountains leap? What if the rocks melt?
We trust patterns that predict where things are going — the moon, the tides, the soccer ball, even the people around us — but a pattern isn’t a certainty. Where we think we’ll end up based on our daily patterns isn’t likely to be where we’ll actually end up.
For all the comfort I find in trusting that God meets me where I am and as I am in the now, I am even more reassured by the knowledge that God will also meet me where I will be — even though I don’t yet know where or when or how I will be.
Prayer: Christ be beside me, above me, and within me. Christ be beyond me, in whatever may be, in the wonder of not yet.
cross-posted with the UCC Daily Devotional