The sky has the look of storm to it this morning, a forming in the night of dark shapes and deep shadows. Long clean lines of dark blue come across lighter hues and tumbled arcs, haphazard and pushing into one another. Every now and then, a patch of light color seems to show a hint of something calmer, a notion of unthreatened sky beyond.
Off to the east, a thin slice of dawn breaks through between the heavy-hanging rim of the front and the horizon. A vibrant red-orange glow shows that even in this warning of darkness, there is still the sun, still the cycle of the earth and its seasons.
I will remember that beyond the ill-timed nights of this world’s risings, there is The One who formed me in my mother’s womb, who brought me forth. I will remember that He has delivered me through darker storms than these and has held me even in those times when I did not seek Him. I will remember, too, that even should He choose not to keep my body safe through the surge and whirl of the screeching wind and snarling storm, He has prepared for my soul a place of rest and comfort.
And will welcome me there.