But encouraging somehow to the two who are far from each other, perhaps hours away, states away, a world away: there is one moon, and it can connect our dots. The plea for something in common between two, far separated.
I encountered anew a familiar song this weekend, O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing.
It holds this stanza:
Glory to God and praise and love
Be ever, ever given
By saints below and saints above,
The church in earth and Heaven.
I remembered that plea for commonality.
Somehow I don't think Robb looks at the same moon I do at night. Perhaps he does, but I suspect his sky is far more celestial than the one I can see.
But, as I sang, I wondered about him singing the very same song, along with me. Just as we have sung for more than a decade of Sundays beside one another, still we sing together, the church in earth and Heaven.
He is where he is, I am where I am, and together we sing. Maybe the same song, sometimes. Always to the same God.
He connects our dots.