When the moon hits your eye . . .

Did anyone see the moon last night?!

It was gorgeous! A full moon, it was big, beautiful, hanging low, just above our tree line, shimmering on our dewy field.
I was on my way out to have coffee with a friend. We were meeting at Starbucks at 8 p.m.
Quite a treat for me.
I was running a bit late, and needed to stop for gas, so, after kissing the boys goodnight, I was rushing out the door.
I opened the gate and looked up and BANG! There it was.
It was so stunning that I stopped short, keys in hand, and stood for a long minute (as opposed to a short minute) -- staring.
The air was cool, the last smears of sun still fading in the west, the moon rising in the eastern sky.
But it looked so big, so heavy, so close.
I wanted to touch it.
I felt like if I stood on tip-toes I just might be able to.
I really did say aloud to my self, "when the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie . . . " and chuckled.
It all made perfect sense to me in that moment, and I was sure that who ever penned that silly love song must have been looking at a moon like mine.
I headed on the road to meet with my friend, but I called Joe and told him to take the boys outside to have a look at the amazing moon.
I could hear Daniel as soon as it was in his sights . . ."Moon! Moon! Moon! Moon!"
"He definitely sees it," Joe said.
After I hung up with him, I called my mom, who is suffering from a sever cold.
"Have you seen the moon?" I asked.
"No," she croaked out.
"Go to the porch and look at it. You can't miss this."
"Wow! I see it!"
A few minutes of marveling.
"Thanks for sharing that!" mom said.
How could I not?
My history class is studying the beginning of history, the creation, and as I looked at the moon last night, all I could think was what a delight it must have been to make the moon.
God's sense of sublimity is humbling and awe inspiring.
How big is God, to have made a moon so big?
Pretty big.