Saturday, December 10, 2011

Skywatcher

By Belinda

I miss things that others catch.

Paul gazes from the window and notices the crops that neighbouring farmers have planted.

I wonder, "How does he know what is in the field?" I wouldn't know winter wheat from barley, but he does, and he sees a hawk in flight instantly, while I am gazing in vain to spot it.

My friend Susan notices all sorts of things that I am oblivious to--her eyes are tuned to things out of order and she bustles around after cell group, straightening chairs, folding the table liner just so, sweeping the floor if I let her--a labour of love.

But ah, the sky--that I never miss.

"Maybe it's just too big to miss,"  you might laughingly say. Well that is so. The sky is big, a canvas God paints on and speaks to me through all the time!

Yesterday morning I drove to work feeling like a dart speeding through the air to the bulls eyes of tasks waiting.I had deadlines to meet; my priorities were in order. I reached for my CD player to listen to an almost finished audio book on the 20 minute journey when I looked up and changed my mind. Instead the sky captured me.

The sun was shining through a cloud window looking like a small pillar of pale gold in a cream satin sky. All the way down the highway I felt that the beauty was a gift to accompany me. I felt the peace of God with me.

At the end of the day I left an hour early because of an evening trip north for a Christmas dinner in Huntsville. The same gold pillar peeped through the clouds as though it had shown up especially for my return journey home.

At home I quickly combed my hair, put on lipstick, powdered my nose and gathered up some Christmas cards and my camera. Paul and I set out into an evening on which the curtain of night had now descended and began the journey north on highway 400.

A full moon hung above us and I watched it all the way. It played peek-a-boo in the clouds, sometimes hiding behind a lacy gray veil feigning playful shyness. As we drove further north, silhouetted conifers pointed heavenward.

Again, I felt peace and a sense of timelessness. The hustle and bustle of the season fell away. I imagined our blue planet spinning in space; the things that seemed so pressing and important that morning were nothing in the big scheme of God's universe. I had done my best and was content to leave the rest with God.

On the way home today from an afternoon of shopping the western sky outdid any painted by Turner. Beams of gold light shone in all directions from behind softest peach clouds in a sky of pale robins egg blue. It took my breath away and I thought that heaven could hardly be more beautiful.

Thou Maker and Sustainer of all things, 

         day and night are thine, 
heaven and earth declare thy glory

14 comments:

Susan said...

Now that was worth waiting for!

Belinda said...

Ha ha! The SKY--now that was worth waiting for. :)

Dave Hingsburger said...

I can just hear a voice coming down from heaven ... Belinda Skywatcher, I am your Father.

Belinda said...

Dave, you made me smile at that thought! As I was trying hard to describe it, it was YOUR voice cheering me on, because you make me believe I can do it! :)

Susan said...

So tell me. What were you thinkin' this morning when Pastor kept telling us to "Look up" during the sermon?

I thought that was pretty cool! (In spite of being in a purple funk at the time. :) )

Dave Hingsburger said...

Belinda, I was 'punning' Star Wars, the big moment, Luke, I am your father - his last name was Skywalker. I'm not sure that my pop culture reference really worked.

Belinda said...

Susan, I had my mind on something else at that moment (something to do with which Sunday in Advent this actually is!) :)

I hope that Purple Funk came out in the wash! :)Oh dear, with me in your life you do have many trials and tribulations.

Belinda said...

Dear Dave,
I am so sorry that you had to explain that to me! :) Like I said in the blog post, I miss a lot of things and that just proved my point. Ha ha. Your pop culture reference worked--it was me whose head it went over.

Susan said...

I left the purple funk at church this morning with your help... And most of the trials and tribulations in my life, dear friend, are caused by my very own stinkin' thinkin'. :) Today, by the way, (having grown up in a liturgical church) is the 3rd Sunday in Advent. (You shoulda just passed me a note.)

Susan said...

P.S. You missed a good sermon. :)

Belinda said...

Susan, yes, I knew which Sunday in Advent it is because last Sunday Brenda was a reader at St. John's for the second Sunday, but our dear distracted pastor preached a sermon based on it being the first Sunday in Advent. I didn't mention it but wished I had this morning, when I realized that it was part of a series! :) When pastor Dave mentioned in the sermon that there were "two Advents," (one being the coming again of Jesus) I turned to Paul and said, "Yes, Hillside's and the rest of the world's." :)

Brave Raven said...

"A full moon hung above us and I watched it all the way. It played peek-a-boo in the clouds, sometimes hiding behind a lacy gray veil feigning playful shyness. As we drove further north, silhouetted conifers pointed heavenward." This beautiful description must bring joy to the Creator's heart. It means you found the gift He left for you.

Belinda said...

Dear Brave Raven, Thank you for sharing the pleasure with me, of those moments in the car, so wholeheartedly. Wow, I think I convoluted that sentence--but you know what I mean! :)

Susan said...

Aw, Raven, I wish I'd said that! What a beautiful thought. "...you found the gift He left for you." Sigh.. I love it.