The Talking Sky

THE SKY SPEAKS

© Jeannie St. John Taylor

“The heavens tell of the glory of God.

The skies display his marvelous craftsmanship.

Day after day they continue to speak;

Night after night they make him known.

There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard.

Their message has gone out to all the earth,

And their words to all the world.”

Psalm 119: 1-4

            For thousands of years mankind has lifted eyes to the heavens knowing the sky would BE. 

Never changing.

A constant. 

            Constantly changing. 

For thousands of years never once exactly the same.  Not for five minutes.  Not for five seconds.  The sky moves continuously as it fulfills its purpose:

DECLARING GOD’S GLORY.

The sky whispers God’s quiet beauty as

the rising sun paints white puffs with pinks and lavender

azure melts into the deep blue of a cloudless summer sky

filmy orange stripes stretch across the horizon at sunset 

the cobalt night sky twinkles with specks of light.

The sky sighs God’s presence in the warm breeze that swirls around us, embracing, caressing faces.

The wild sky calls out the wonder of a wild God.

It roars God’s power in the storm that pulsates brilliant orange and yellow, then darkens. It lifts birds and drives them backwards. Jagged fire shoots east to west. Thunder shouts.  Clouds swirl and collide then descend as tornadoes, snatching up houses and massive oaks. 

After the storm, the sky murmurs God’s love, arching His rainbow-promise of protection through lingering droplets.

The sky’s beauty beckons us, stirring a longing in our hearts—we long to merge with God’s glory.  We ascend in metal shells.  The sky encloses us, shaking tons of steel traveling through clouds as easily as it flutters an aspen leaf. We scale the tallest peaks to touch the sky.  Its heights freeze us.  Thin oxygen sucks the breath from our lungs.

No one can survive the naked embrace of God’s sky.

Yet it reaches down to touch us and utter comfort.

It settles to the earth as fog, obliterating massive mountains.  It blankets cities with white, halting human activity. It grants permission for the sun’s warmth to pass through and coax food from frozen ground. It releases water that paints flowers with brilliant color and rushes over waterfalls.

The sky ceaselessly speaks God’s glory.

It will never pause until the day it trumpets the glory of Christ’s return,

then melts with fervent heat.