I wrap my jacket around me and step out into the night, quieting the screen door’s creak for those sleeping. Over dew-damp grass, lit by stars I walk, to the old dock reaching out into the quiet water.

I come for the chance to see the fleeting aurora, whispering green on the horizon. It flickers and fades, teasing me with hope for more.

I come for the aurora, but I find God there, waiting for me in the stillness. I come into His silent knowing, into His soft invitation.

So many times He’s met me in the darkness, in the unspoken, in the silent tears and stuttered breath. So many times He’s sat with me, familiar and wild, tender and dangerous, stirring my soul, both exposing and sheltering me with His presence.

The cattails rattle in the cool breeze as He breathes beside me, inside me, around me. As He holds my dreams and questions, open-handed in the night.