divine appointment

We had no idea. Slipping outside and starting up the hill together, hand in hand, Mom and Daughter, we were thinking of ice cream. We chatted as we walked, swinging our arms. We laughed. At the stop sign we waited, and then crossed the street and stepped onto campus. The lawn's expanse and massive trees always inspire me. But today . . .

I can't recall who noticed it first, the smooth white icing clouds in the East, fading up into lovely pink and lavender haze. Still walking, we looked up, drawn into the beauty, and then slowly turned and stopped, awestruck. Behind us the sky was a stunning turquoise, laced with puffy white trails. The blue's intensity held us, transfixed. We kept staring as celestial winds hastened north, pulling wisps of white in their wake. Down below, beyond the trees, the horizon shone molten yellow, like liquid, brilliant gold. We soaked it in, speechless.

What if we had missed this! We moved uphill together, hoping to catch more of the Artist's painting. In those brief moments everything changed again—from turquoise to resonant blue, from honey gold to flaming fuchsia. Far above us the winds kept coaxing, drawing airy strings across the firmament. At last we surrendered, hearts bursting at the seams. We entered the student center and bought our ice cream, but the memory of that sky pulled us back outdoors, expectant.

Less than 5 minutes had elapsed, but the grand exhibition was over. Some cosmic hole had opened up and all the vibrant color had drained away, leaving only a pale and tired blue in its wake. The horizon was quenched. Our hearts, too, were silent—awed by the display of His majesty.

The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech;

night after night they reveal knowledge.

They have no speech, they use no words;

no sound is heard from them.

Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,

their words  to the ends of the world.

Psalm 19:1–4