Grey clouds surround me. I am enamored by the weight of presence. The movement in the skies. What must the clouds must be thinking…
They shuffle along quickly. A storm will come to pass. Bubbling and brewing, making movement for their God.
Life moves quickly, as they pass through one phase to another. Some disappearing into a vapory mist. Some building tumultuous storms. Some simply stand still in white puffy happiness.
An opening appears.
Pure blue, only a glimpse through dull greyness. They separate to allow emptiness between themselves. A brief glimpse of the heavens amidst the dawning of the storm.
A way is made through the clouds to follow light. I desperately linger among the bitterness unsure if I should go. But the opening begins to fade, so I decide I must.
Stepping through to the other side I find my Savior’s hand to guide me along. Hesitant, I see.