In sixteen days it will be one year since our humming aircraft coasted at cruising altitude in the perfect blueness above. Then a thick down comforter of clouds appeared below as the plane gradually descended. Soon the blanket was no longer below us, but we were wrapped in it, with all of its puffy turbulence. Then we broke free from its embrace, and emerged on the other side.
It was gray. Dismal. No semblance of sun or blue or clear or bright. Just overcast shadows dancing against a neutral canvas, without hue.
“They don’t know!” I thought to myself, of the ants scurrying around below. “They don’t know what is beyond the comforter of clouds! They can’t see that it’s blue up there!”
And here we are, a year later, and it’s gray. Dismal. Overcast. No sign of the sun.
Yet it’s there.
May He give us the eyes to see what lies beyond the clouds. May He give us the eyes to see His glory.
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