Tuesday, October 24, 2017

“Some things have to be believed to be seen.”

~ Madeleine L’Engle

The evening sky takes on the strangest hue around supper time. I can’t help but look up and wonder, what if?

I grab my phone, head out on the deck, and snap a photo that doesn’t come close to doing it justice. Others pull out their DSLRs and are moderately more successful; my Facebook feed peppers with images of the sky. One wise person doesn’t even try, she just posts a status update saying no photo can possibly capture the wonder of it.

It isn’t long before the sun sets, darkness falls, and I am left with a lingering sense of melancholy. Not yet.

Later, I contemplate the awe of many eyes turned upward and contrast it with the quiet stillness I find through the macro lens of my camera. Different facets of creation; same awe-inspiring, glory-deserving, life-giving, soul-loving Creator.

And there’s that word again that’s been tangled up in my mind for so many months: love. It’s there as much in the vastness of the sky as it is in the tiniest of flower petals. It’s there in the storm, it’s there in the stillness.

It’s there. It’s always there.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.

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