This time of year, the days of gray and cold can seem never-ending. Almost everlasting.
It's a hard reality to live with but I see in those skies a reminder of faithfulness and the fact that what is so often hidden by a tight pack of clouds and pollution, is still there working it's powerful, life-giving glory.
Today, like so many of the days likely will in the span of 365, did not end great. It was a beautiful day overall, and for most of it I was at peace, but there was difficulty as it drew to a close and I felt the clouds close in. How to share out of that place?
Looking up at that sky this morning, with the sun barely showing it's face, I began with hope. And hope is where I need to end it. I was reminded by that faint light this morning that I must always, always look up. Feet firmly planted on earth, with my hands in the mess of it all, but never keeping my eyes on my feet. Even Hagar was seen in her affliction*, and the poor will not always be forgotten*, and all of my groanings are heard along with every other cry that raises it's voice to the Heavens.*
There is no impotence there. No slowness to act or indifference to our pleas. The very wind and the seas obey Him*, and it is faith that pleases like a gift of infinite worth.*
He can move mountains, He can change hearts, He can make the sun rise every single day. And He does.
*Gen 6, Psalm 9, Romans 8, Matthew 8, Romans 4