Night time comes like the second half of a heartbeat. The big thump is day, the smaller thump is dark. Yet our body does not threaten cardiac arrest, simply because the current beat is the weaker version, the one that brings exhausted blood home after its pilgrimage.
Technically, it would not work so well to lop off the second
part of the system. Blood splurts through teensy tubes the size of fettuccine well enough, but what about the homecoming? One way travel means you run out.
Constant daytime would be problematic too, because we would forget to close our eyes. We could spend our energy lavishly on work and family, but God would have no respite to replenish the supply.
The animals know, and have ever known that the moon does indeed rule, but only for half the
course of each journey around the sun. They are not upset. Nocturnal life is part of the deal.
Neither does the earth panic as the waning moon climbs into the trees and flaunts its reign in the absence of the sun.
"Yes, you are queen, but not forever."
Your marriage waxes and wanes. That is not an indication of brokenness. It means you are part of the rhythm embedded in everything that breaths and many things that
don't. Sun and moon, veins and arteries play tag. We unfairly expect marriage to have a different protocol.
But then we would never see the stars.
