By Jessica Brodie
The path of totality ran directly through my Lexington backyard (I still get a kick out of saying this), so on Eclipse Day I decided to work from home and step outside at “magic hour” to watch the world transform.
And transform it did! Standing in my yard with family, approved eclipse-viewing glasses safely plastered over our eyes and neighbors all around doing the same exact thing, we watched as the moon slid slowly, perfectly, directly over the sun.
Oh, but it was so much more than that.
See, for those few minutes we all stopped everything we were doing. Everything. We all walked outside into God’s glorious creation and stared upward at His wonder. And we collectively marveled!
I had heard about what we’d see and what to expect, but knowing all the facts in my mind didn’t prepare me for the indescribably powerful stirring of my heart that I experienced standing there, feeling and watching the full total eclipse transform my neighborhood and my corner of the world.
Day turned into night. Crickets began to sing and gnats swarm. And I stood there, breathless. How beautiful to look up at the sky and see that great ball of fire with its perfect black moon-pupil. How timeless and utterly, magnificently humbling.
As amazing as it was for a few minutes, at the end of it all the sun remained, ever burning with all its glory. It was eclipsed for a few minutes. But just a few. And then the darkness slid away.
Darkness, indeed, can never truly eclipse the light. The sun—the Son—always shines.
But there is darkness in the world. Sometimes it is more obvious: murder, brutality, raw and unabashed evil. Sometimes the darkness is more subtle: a white lie, a lustful thought.
Since the eclipse I’ve been asking myself: What am I letting eclipse the Son in my own life? What am I lifting as a priority over my relationship with God? Is it my role as a wife and mother? Is it my so-called responsibilities? Is it food or power or money or anything else that can get in the way of me and my Maker?
In my busy life hundreds—no, thousands—of things compete with God for my attention. I have to work hard to push them aside. But at the end of the day, and surely at the end of all my days on earth, it always comes back to this: He is creator and I am His. Nothing can eclipse God. Everything passes away. Everything pales in comparison.
Make no mistake: while God is Supreme (whether we care or not, whether we prioritize it or not), we as Christians have to make a choice every single day to follow God or follow the world. We have to work at this.
Jesus said, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments” (Matthew 22:37-40).
As our nation wrestles with the pain of Charlottesville amid the beauty of the eclipse, may we all remember: God is the light. We honor God when we put Him first and love others as ourselves. No exceptions.