There’s a lightning storm over Houston. I look out my window and it only flickers at first. Then again. And again. I’ve seen this a thousand times from the ground, but never been in it; a lightning storm.

It’s amazing how perspective changes things. The beauty. The majesty. Such illumination dancing across the skies; so delicately, so graceful. I feel ashamed watching it as if human eyes weren’t meant to behold. Like the whispers and embrace of lovers behind closed doors – it is meant only for them.Still I watch – afraid at any moment it will end. But it doesn’t. More and more the light dances. It is rapturous in design. The things eyes weren’t ever mean to see.

Sitting in the back of the bus, the road rumbles under me. It’s early morning and the fog is still thick. Passing through a cornfield, I see it; a burst of light amongst the gray. God’s glory is shining upon that spot. It makes me ask, “Why does god shine on some, but not on others.” We drive on and the fog breaks, but the question lingers.
As we continue it hits me - our pursuit isn’t waiting for the sun to shine and warm our faces. It is us who should chase the sun thorough the fog.