Painted Skies

Wyoming, land of wide open spaces.  Skies that are filled with stars  you can see for miles.  Hills and mountains that are inhabited by humans and creatures alike.  A land that you can be in the mountains and almost an hour later be in the high plains of this great country.  Some days you see the same thing over and over, but other days you see something new.  One thing I never get tired of though; the painted skies of the Eastern sunrise and the Western sunset.

Every night when I leave my office, I take in a breath of fresh air and look at the skies.  Every night is different.  Some nights I can barely see due to darkness.  Other nights are clear allowing me to see for miles.  Sure, those miles can be obscured by buildings, but in breaks of rooftops I can see forever.  Some of my favorite nights are the ones that lightning is dancing across the horizon, illuminating a silhouette of clouds.  I love these nights!  I might be the oddball person loving the electrical storm despite the damage it can cause, but I find them refreshing.

Tonight, I was greeted by a panoramic view of skies painted red in the northwest, grey dreary clouds to the north, storm clouds with streaks of rain to the southeast, a rainbow to the southwest and the eastern sky charged with more electricity than a baby with fine blonde hair freshly rubbed with a balloon.  It was a scene I stood and took in for an extra moment as I began to feel rain drops.

As I drove home, the east was filled with lightning.  I could sense the energy it provided with each strike.  And with each strike, I was overcome with inadequacy.  I knew I had to share the beauty I was seeing.  I had to share the awe inspiring scene God was painting by the second.  And yet, I also knew I couldn't put words to the scene in front of my eyes.  I then wondered if John felt inadequate to share all he saw while on Patmos.  How could he find the words to describe the Throne in Heaven with the one sitting in the throne, surrounded by more thrones and elders in those thrones which God was showing him?  Or how he should describe the large red dragon.  What were his thoughts as he saw everything being shown to him?  Certainly he wasn't just overwhelmed with all he saw and the weight of knowing he was charged with writing these things.  I'm pretty sure he felt inadequate.

Tonight, I felt a little like John.  Hopefully, my little description of the panorama I took in showed you a glimpse of why I love Wyoming.  I get to see the master artist paint a new picture every single night.  Words trying to do play by play of the scene he is painting will fail.  For that, I'm sorry, but for attempting to provide a small picture, I am honored.