(Photo courtesy Riki Meyers)
“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.
The
sky moves continuously as it fulfills its purpose
DECLARING GOD’S GLORY.
The
sky whispers God’s quiet beauty.
The rising sun paints white puffs with pinks and lavender.
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
us,
caressing
upturned faces.
The wild sky calls out the wonder of a wild God.
Roaring God’s power in the storm that pulsates brilliant orange and
yellow, then darkens.
Lifting birds and driving them backwards.
Shooting jagged
fire 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, stirs a longing 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 breath from our lungs.
No one can survive the naked embrace of God’s sky.
Yet it reaches down to touch us and utters comfort.
Settling to the earth as fog
Obliterating massive mountains.
Blanketing cities with white that halts human activity.
Granting permission for warmth to pass through and coax food
from frozen ground.
Releasing water to paints flowers with brilliant color and
rush over waterfalls.
The sky ceaselessly speaks God’s glory.
It will never pause until the day it trumpets the glory of
Christ’s return
And melts with fervent heat.
Am I Praying?