On Sunday, we drove for miles and miles. Endless miles. Eleven hours to be exact – from one end of the state to the other. Just the five of us, packed in a warm car, windows splashed with rain and highway dust.
The wind blew hard against our wheels.
Outside, the clouds hung thick and stormy over the Central California farmlands.
Traffic came to a standstill. The kids stirred restless in the backseat.
It felt like we would never get home.
But my eyes could not leave the sky. Laid open and wordless, the sky seemed to say so much.
I have heard it said God shows us things through the skies. He ministers simple reminders through its incomprehensible vastness.
The heavens are telling the glory of God;
and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.
~ Psalm 19:1
Traffic loosened momentarily, and we rolled on. Then two faint streams of light broke through a small opening in the clouds.
I watched as the light broke through even stronger, ever so determined to reveal the blue canvas beneath.
After some time, the purest blue washed over the darkness, and it seemed the sky finally breathed hope.
But it dawned on me, from the first faint rays of light, even in the midst of the storm, hope had been hidden there all along.
God’s presence is so vast. His glory is beyond description. The heavens are merely His handiwork. His faithfulness has no beginning or end. It is even more endless than these miles.
At nine o’clock, we rounded off the freeway into the city – nearly home free. Our littlest one fast asleep.
Sometimes the brightest hope is hidden beneath the thickest clouds … and isn’t it something, how it only takes the smallest ray of light to throw off a dark sky?