Home by moonlight

Moonlight. The full, unhindered brightness of clear, star-pierced night over sere, shadow-long plains. A nighttime journey. Three souls whizzing down snaky black roads. And music. The swift lilt of hammered dulcimer, the dance of violin, and the voice of Rich Mullins crying out glory.

This gypsy life with its car treks back and forth through the plains sometimes threaten to undo me. And yet, sometimes the long miles create a hedged circle of quiet in which I am unexpectedly remade. Night drives especially seem to bear an inherent magic. Dad, Joel and I drove far into the night, through the mountain passes to make it back home. I was so dreading it, but the peace of those dark hours was like sleep to a very exhausted soul. And the moonlight, well it was like food. (The fudge sundae we snagged in Raton also helped.)

And Rich Mullins. Every time I hear him I thank God he lived. He’s one of my saints, one of the people whose music of love to God bridges the chasms of my struggle and allows me to come close to the Father again. I first heard his songs on a family roadtrip up into the southern Rockies. There is just nothing quite like driving pencil thin roads through gigantic, snow-capped mountains while singing Sing Your Praise at the top of your thirteen-year-old lungs. Since then, Rich has companioned and illuminated many hours of my gypsy wandering, hours that somehow stand out as moments of luminescent beauty when I look back on them. If you have never heard Rich Mullins, go listen. Now. Start with my favorite of his: A Liturgy, A Legacy and a Ragamuffin Band. And listen to it by mountains or moonlight if you possibly can.

So, all that to say. We are home now. Once again, I am writing away. At some point, I’m sure I’ll crash in sheer exhaustion, but for now, the words are flowing, albeit in a ramble. A snowstorm is brooding in the west. I am sipping my last thermos cup of tea before braving the cold and making it home. And now, I am bidding you a fond farewell. For the moment anyway…



Filed under Music, Musings, Nature

11 responses to “Home by moonlight

  1. “And the moonlight, well it was like food.”

    Beautiful, Sarah! We feasted last night during the eclipse – the Father filled us up. Love to you, Q

  2. geektechnique

    Sarah I love reading anything you post because you always take me to a place that is sometimes difficult to find.

  3. I remember being in college and hearing that Rich Mullins had died–I was crushed. His music takes me swiftly back to those college days, when Jesus became real to me, and Rich’s songs fed my soul. I still have “Liturgy . . .” in my car and listen to him when I’m driving at night, more than ten years after his death.

  4. Jo

    I feel led to say, “I took a walk with the gypsy, Sarah last night!” Once again, your writing has taken me away.
    Bravo, dear writer!

  5. I was praying for your family this past week!

    Yes… Rich. One of my all time favorites. He is perhaps my favorite Christan music artist. (My favorite tree hugger is still John Denver.)

  6. “If you have never heard Rich Mullins, go listen. Now. Start with my favorite of his: A Liturgy, A Legacy and a Ragamuffin Band. And listen to it by mountains or moonlight if you possibly can.”

    Oh, I have my beautiful niece, every summer in the moonlight of the high mountains of the San Isabell at 10600 ft. Rich always goes with us when we travel! We sure think alot alike to be 800 miles or so apart for such a long time!

    We loved having all of you down here, even though your visit here was just way too short! Your post tells us y’all made it home safely without incident! Maybe we will get together up there this summer—if the price of gas doesn’t go as high as predicted!

  7. Your travel by moonlight sounds so peaceful. I hope you are getting plenty of rest and that the words continue to flow! 🙂

  8. Once again, the peace from reading your writing just overwhelms. I’ll look up Rich Mullins for sure.

  9. amy brown

    Hi Sarah, we are big Rich Mullins fans here. One lyric of his can haunt me for days- he isone of my saints too!

  10. Emily

    That was such a beautiful reflection! I can perfectly envision the moonlight and the music and you, with paper and pen in hand, writing about what is taking you here and there.

  11. Hi, Sarah ~
    You don’t know me but I’m a childhood friend of Ralina’s and found your blog while looking at hers. I am a few years older than you but could not help but notice, had we met in our early twenties, we would be kindred spirits. In fact, we are! I live in San Francisco and on top of loving nature, the sea most of all, I love big cities, the arts, seeing many cultures and peoples bringing the world together in one place.

    From George Eliot (“Middlemarch”, one of the greatest novels the world has known) to C.S. Lewis (have read every book he’s written) to “The Man Who Was Thursday” to Kate Rusby and so on… many similar favorites we have. Even the Waterhouse painting (love that one & many others; his “Lady of Shalott”!)

    Here is a myspace page I’ve long had listing favorite books, music, films, etc…: http://www.myspace.com/ginmiller; and a food/travel newsletter/website I have (I send out a monthly newsletter), a hobby/love that has turned into some freelance writing jobs for me: http://www.theperfectspotsf.com.

    It is good to know you’re out there – another dreamer, writer, poet at heart, a Renaissance Woman (do your friends call you that, too? I would not be surprised!)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s