07 FOREWORD “And God said, ‘Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth.’ And it was so. God made two great lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night” (New International Version, Gen. 1:14-16a). You step outside, onto your front porch, or perhaps the cement walkway in front of your dorm. It’s night. You open your hands, and light from the crescent above pours through your fingers, forming spindly shadows. For the first time all week, you listen to the sounds revealed by silence—crickets conversing, wind whooshing, and your lungs exhaling breath. The sacred quiet surrounds you. You stare up at the moon and consider its face, half-veiled but still shining. It’s been a long day—no clouds, searing sun. Now, the lesser light soothes you. Unlike the sun, it doesn’t shout sentences, but speaks syllables. It murmurs celestial poetry, sourced from beyond the stars. And you worship—your face upturned to the moon’s face, upturned to the Maker’s. Come and contemplate how gently art reflects His glory. Haley Kollstedt and Meghan Wells Editors In Chief
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