Last week a seamless gray sky poured rain into gutters with the steady pace of a metronome. Cast in black, my favorite trees looked arthritic, with branches bent and crooked. I look to the sky for direction in the morning. Today, I’d have to have faith.
I tried to place it in the sky behind the iron curtain of graphite cloud matter. Envision the low place just above the tree line where it would be at 9:30 am. This is my favorite time to sit with the sun in my kitchen. It bathes the counter with a soft and spiritual glow that gives me an extraordinary sense of calm. It’s as if I’m wrapped in peace and everything is more than fine.
When it rains day after day, which it has this week, the sun becomes a matter of faith. You must imagine it’s place on the horizon and call on your soul for memories of its soothing power.
I believe gray skies still have a good side. They force you to think hard about the sun’s blessings. I am praying for the faith and imagination required to feel the sun’s peace without its light. This exercise may seem low on the faith scale. It’s not about heaven or loving Jesus. Still, I find the healing power of the sun miraculous.
Embrace faith wherever you find it. Scoop it up and feed it. All faith is worthy and good and shouldn’t be measured or compared, just like love.