Half and half. My computer screen is split down the middle: info on the left, this post on the right. Neat. Tidy. Satisfactory. Like the Autumn Equinox. The science of the sun and its position over the equator at the equinoxes is complex; Google it if you wish… but as far as ordinary punters are concerned it means we have approximately 12 hours of day and 12 hours of night. Half and half.
Last Wednesday there was a new moon. It was a clear night and the stars were spectacular – visible across all parts of the sky, bright and beautiful and totally awe-inspiring. I stood in the garden, head tilted back, and pondered the wonder of the created universe, recalling the Bible verse that always makes me chuckle thanks to its spectacular understatement: “He also made the stars.”
The next day the sun came up with a mixture of blue sky and puffy white fine-weather clouds. The stars had gone. But of course they hadn’t. They were still there; just invisible. Looking up at the sky it was hard to imagine their existence. My focus was on what I could see, rather on what I couldn’t see. Day and night – two halves of the whole.
The presence of God, the Creator of the rolling spheres, isn’t a half-hearted phenomenon. The heavens, the Bible says, declare his glory – day and night. He is ever-present – trust me. Or rather, trust him.