Dark Sky
Practice
Go outside at night. Find a quiet space outside and sense the stillness of the night.
Look up. If the stars are visible, marvel at their steady light.
Embrace the shadows. If clouds or city lights obscure the stars, trust the unseen heavens.
Rest in the stillness. Let the quiet settle over you. Breathe deeply. Let go of striving and simply be.
Reflect. Remember the light that is coming—The longest night of the year holds the brightest promise: the Light of the World, born in manger, illuminating all things.
“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. ”
December 21, the darkest night of the year, falls just days before Christmas. The world feels suspended in shadow, as if holding its breath for something new. These long nights are a threshold—where the silence deepens, the stars emerge, and the veil between heaven and earth feels paper-thin.
“What are human beings that you are mindful of them?” David marveled staring into the dark sky (Psalm 8:4). The wise men, gazing at a single star rising in the east, left behind the known world and stepped into the mystery of shadow and light. Their journeys began not with answers but with questions. They followed not certainty but wonder, trusting that the God who placed the stars in the heavens would guide them to their source.
In Wintering, Katherine May observes how creation moves through its seasons without resistance: “Plants and animals don’t fight the winter; they don’t pretend it’s not happening. They prepare. They adapt.” The longest nights of the year, rather than something to endure, are an invitation to slow down, to rest, to trust what is unseen. The stars remind us that waiting is not wasted time. Yet, in many places, we lose the beauty of the night. The brilliance of the stars fades behind the relentless glow of streetlamps, billboards, and screens. We flood the dark with artificial light, using it to push back the stillness.
Practice stepping outside under the dark sky. Feel the cool air on your skin, the stillness wrapping around you. If the stars are visible, marvel at their patient, steady light. Let their glow remind you that, the God who knows every star by name also knows you—intimately and infinitely. If the stars are hidden, let the unseen heavens speak of a God that is at work, even when the light is obscured. Brother Luke Ditewig writes, “The darkness is God’s gift to you—a place to rest and be held.” Resist the urge to flood the night with brightness. Instead, let the quiet and the shadows settle around you. Let the darkness teach you to wait, to rest, and to trust the One who dwells in both shadow and light. The work of loving our neighbors, caring for our communities, and creating change requires rest. When we sit in the quiet dark, we are not escaping the world; we are preparing to reenter it with clarity and grace. The stars invite us to trust the God who is present in both shadow and light.
The God who scattered the stars across the heavens placed the Light of the World in a manger, where night wrapped Him like a blanket. The dark sky holds the brightest promise: in the darkness, God is near, inviting us to rest, to trust, and to be held.
