The day was turning out a bit Van Gogh-ish, after all, I just recently watched a documentary on his art and life.
I came out here to breathe, to let the cusp of evening air shock my lungs with crispness.
I needed a reminder of how life is always changing like the seasons. Because change does come and sometimes it seems long in coming, but it always does.
And I need to remember, now, to remember now, to be present and just still some part of my spinning days.
Because honestly, sometimes I feel like that sky, like a Van Gogh painting all vibrant in blues and yellows, with hard brush strokes. Except it's not the vibrant beauty I feel, but more the energy of colors moving.
Always moving.
Those pronounced and intentional strokes with multi-colored layers of a true, later in life Van Gogh painting is like the tornado which seems to always be ripping through inside my head. Like the tornado-ish cloud in the first picture.
I was transfixed. So I took pictures.
Lots of them.
The next day when I pulled up my small view window on my camera and showed my husband, he said, "My goodness, how many did you take?", to which I replied "Um, alot?"
Yeah.
Because in all our broad strokes of life, when the day is wrecked like a canvas of spilled paint, or vibrant by the loud colors of a temper, for when we just need to breathe, to Breathe deep, we look for the Phoenix rising.
Except its not some mythical bird, its this one Creature who has healing in His wings, who covers me with His feathers, whose wings are my refuge.
And I see Him on the horizon.
Slowly rising over the tree tops, with security lights on electricial poles blinking on, He rose like an eagle in the clouds. A blue wing sweeping over me for more than half the hour, growing bigger as I clicked.
Sure, I know there is "science" behind wind and currents that affect nature but I also know Who's in charge of clouds and tells the sun when and where it should go. I know Who sets boundaries for the sea and tells it can only go this far.
And I refuse to close my eyes or turn away from what creation cries out, You are there. We need only see it.
So I open.
I see the "Phoenix Rising".
"Who makes the clouds His chariot, who walks on the wings of the wind..." Psalm 104:3


