Northern Lights
The heavens declare the glory of God; And the firmament shows His handiwork. Psalm 19:1
I don’t understand Northern Lights. I have read scientific descriptions of what causes them. I have studied models of orbit and atmosphere that explain how they appear. But I still don’t get it.
I haven’t seen them often.
But a few years ago, while driving late at night in Eastern South Dakota, I saw them more clearly than I ever had.
The Northern sky seemed covered with a writhing edgewise ribbon of bluish light. The light-ribbon shifted in atmospheric energy winds… rippling with a surreal sense of physical presence. If I could have jumped high enough, it seemed like I could grab it. Whatever it was.
And I could almost hear it. At the edge of auditory existence, the Northern Lights nearly hummed and teased me with an almost understood symphony.
Stopped by the side of the road, pupils dilated, mouth agape, you could have mistaken me for an ancient traveler overwhelmed by a sudden display of wizardry or magic. But this was real.
It doesn’t happen often in this cynical and over-confident world. But I encountered something I didn’t understand
And rather than ignore it… or explain it away… or rationalize… I was just amazed that God makes such things
I need to be amazed like that more often. Every time a baby is born. Every time a seed sprouts. Every time a bird flies. Every time a fish nibbles at my hook and then laughs away. Every time old eyes flash with youthfulness. Every time a violin sings. Every time someone lost comes home. Every time I make a friend. Every time I remember yesterday. Every time I forget sorrow. Every time someone laughs. Every time I can shout about Jesus and not face arrest. Every time I wake up. Every time. Just every time.