Ever since I was a child, I have been fascinated by the sky. There's something so fragile about looking up and seeing the blue that is really a small barrier to an eternity of the emptiness of space. At night, it's as if the earth's shield is let down, and we are able to catch a small glimpse of what lays out there. It makes me feel so insignificant...and so significant, too, at the same time. Something about the sky draws me to God, makes me more aware of my existence, and provides enlightenment about my purpose and worth. When I look up, I can feel God's eyes on me. It's a deeply spiritual experience for me, whether I'm watching the passing clouds, searching the stars, or just staring into the deep blue expanse.
I love the sky. I love the colors, the way the clouds drift by, or when they build up and darken before a storm. To me, the sky represents freedom, peace, and beauty. How the world looks is dependent on how the sky looks. I'm so thankful for such a gorgeous, ever-changing, ever-present part of life. The love of God is shared through the beauty of the sky.
Paint Me A Sky
The sun sets
Down below the horizon
Purple painted skies
Dabbled with dusk
Foretell that heaven’s beauty
Is not laid to rest for the night
But only just beginning
The pallet of colors burn
As they rush to sink into sleep
Beneath the folds of the sky
Ever so gently
A bashful diamond glimmers
Growing bolder as the night wanes on
Until at last
The sky glitters above
With such remarkable brilliance
That I’ve already forgotten the beauty
Of the sunset.