Opening up the blinds to find even a small and fleeting streak of pink in the sky stops me in my tracks every single time. This morning I stepped out into the chilly autumn morning in my robe and slippers to take a picture–try to hold onto it. I have opened the back door, which is glass on the top pane and screen on the bottom, to let some more of that morning in. Already, the palette has given way mostly to lavender and periwinkle since I snapped the picture, but the quivering morning stillness is still there.
It speaks to me. Tells me I am not alone. Tells me this is a new beginning, the gift of a morning. The evening sky stops me, too, with a feeling of comfort. Somehow the glow of pastels settling back on top of whatever kind of day I have had offers a –
promise that all will be well
See, the home of God is among mortals. Revelation 21:3b (cited on today’s page of Forward Day by Day)