On a Moonlit January Night

Sitting alone in a moon-lit window, Crystal tries to relax and breathes deep to pull in the silence enveloping her world at two in the morning. Outside her window, a new snow blankets everything, deepening the quiet of these timeless hours. The storm is passing and the breaking moon displays the artistry of the storm. Beams of muted light streaming in through Crystal’s favorite window create a halo outlining her long, wavy, blond hair. Sparks of pink fire ignite a shimmering twinkle in an atmosphere of Midnight Blue, along the length of her silk negligee. Nearly immune to the beauty created by the moonlight, of which she is a part of, it is the quiet that holds Crystal’s attention. Listening intently to the nothingness and feeding on its calm. This is what awakened her from an exhausted sleep, this hunger for time to simply be, Crystal.

Repressed thoughts and feelings, as if knowing their time to be heard has come, flood the silent calm of Crystal’s mind. All the yearning and disappointments stuffed down during the rush of busy days, present themselves in this quiet moment, stark in contrast to this night’s peaceful, midnight mood. The truths that Crystal wants to ignore, march into her present thoughts, in rank and file, demanding their power be recognized. In this still moment a long put off reckoning is come. The silence of this moon-lit winter night provides no hiding place for the unpleasant reality she longs to ignore. Rather, the opposite occurs and she sees herself and her life stripped naked with nothing to cover what is lacking and nothing to highlight her strengths. Here in this quiet that is now deafening, Crystal must confront “Self”.

Crystal suddenly feels very small and alone. Helpless isn’t a state of mind she tolerates in others and seeing it in herself is crushing. However, when acknowledging her awful truths, her helplessness to overcome them alone is obvious. Crystal slumps into the arms of her favored soft chair and attempts to again, breathe in the stillness of the night and make it her own. She holds that quiet breath until her lungs feel they are to burst and then, she lets out a tortured sigh. Tears begin to wash over her cheeks in the same instant; silver streams glistening in moon light. Crystal falls from the chair to her knees, leans her head into her arms whispering, “Father!” A small still voice that seems to come from the stillness of the night but also, from within Crystal replies, “Daughter, I Am here. I’ve always been here and I will always be. Come, let me hold you and give you the comfort and the guidance you need.” These whispered words not spoken through a human mouth but by Spirit impress themselves upon Crystal’s sad, tired heart and satiate her with the peace her soul hungers for. Quieted and assured, Crystal rises from the floor, wipes the tears from her eyes and upon falling into bed, sleeps the deep sleep of a snowy, moonlit, winter’s night.

The sun rises to reveal a purified white world and Crystal sparkling with renewed, spiritual joy, greets the beginning of better days. Set free by the truth she feared in the quiet of a January night.

15 thoughts on “On a Moonlit January Night

  1. Fabulous. Some souls are so wounded and scared, and scarred as well. It becomes easy to “compartmentalize” our inner selves to deal with life, rather than, as you say, allowing the truth we fear to actually set us free. So very well and sensitively written. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Dawn. I sat down with an image in my mind and the rest flowed from itself. I do know where it came from but it came by its own volition. I’m very good at stuffing pain down and toughing it out. We all have to cope sometimes, but there is also, a time to deal with things honestly and I’m thankful for supporting Arms to lean on.:0)

      Liked by 1 person

  2. What a beautiful calming read. I like how Crystal is able to search in the silence of the night and her keeping still enough to hear from the Master. Sometimes, the noise of life can become such a cacophony that it drowns the voice of the inner self. Well written.

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  3. Thank God for “needing”, for it is to the need that he arises. It is to the need that we owe credit for running to Him. Facing Him as different from us, we who dream of self as needed by Him, when actually there is no glory for us but His Glory made available on loan as a act of mercy and grace.

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