Under the Cold Moon


I managed to sneak in a beach walk just ahead of sunset, in between one of this week’s tremendous king tides. Massive driftwood logs were scattered across the shore as if they were nothing more than toothpicks.

But now, everything was still. Not a single wave reached the shore.


The final full moon of the year—the Cold Moon—brightened as the sun lowered in the sky.


I knew I’d need to turn back soon, but I kept walking.


I had names to speak aloud on that beach.


There’s Wyatt—enduring brutal but lifesaving cancer treatment, but he should be celebrating new freedom from his recent high school graduation.


And Cherie—who just lost her husband, Jim. Unexpectedly. Devastatingly. A loss that echos through her whole family. A heart torn open.


There were so many other names. Every few steps, another came to mind. I prayed aloud for healing, for help, and for wholeness to return.


This season brings long months of darkness, yet also twinkling lights—made all the more beautiful because of the dark. 


Is there a promise of more light?


I almost hear the Cold Moon whisper, “Not yet…but soon.”


As someone once said, prayers that aren’t prayed are prayers that cannot be answered.


I turn back, knowing that I’m not praying to a Cold Moon, but to the God who created it. The One who knows every heart—because He formed them.


I pick up my pace, as the sky finally gives way to dusk. 


This is the last time I’ll walk under a 2025 full moon, and I’m thankful I could. And for all those walking through the darkness of struggle, grief, or loss, my prayer is that God’s light will find you there.


More light—and more answered prayers—await.


“Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.” Psalm 30:5


The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18


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