Taken last Wednesday night, March 11, the same night we found the snowy owl, when we desperately needed some hope. Only in hindsight did we recognize the significance, the gift, of this beautiful scene. As we sat in that van, as we struggled, as we cried, as we tried to figure it out, this sunset erupted before our eyes, insisting on grabbing our attention, pulling us into it, gripping us in its magnificence, reminding us that God will prevail. I asked my mom once, as a kid, maybe 9 or 10 years old, where we came from. And in the midst of her screwed up mental illness, sickness that wasn't dealt with or discussed in those days, insanity that clouded everything, in the midst of her own mental anguish, pain, depression, and demons, she understood my question. She looked up at the sunset playing out before us, and she answered me, "from up there in the pink clouds". And I understood her answer. She died when I was 11, but I will always remember her telling me that. I still take comfort and such excruciating pleasure in sunsets, one of the few legacies she left behind that I can embrace. And last Wednesday night, when we desperately needed something, anything, hope, God sent the gift of the sunset, right on time, as He always does. See the flaws in the photo, the flaws I chose not to photoshop out, the telephone poles, the power lines, the road. Look close. This photo is straight out of the camera, just like life. Flawed, imperfect, but beautiful.
To see more of this story:
http://365project.org/shesnapped/365/2015-03-22
