What if I told you this beautiful image was a portrait of death? That this type of painting in the sky could only be drawn with the dust of a dying star? As a follower of Christ, my heart can’t help but be tempted to see a glimpse of heaven in the eye shaped image left behind. God has gifted us such a wondrous world to see the power and beauty of His hands everywhere, even in the darkness of space.

Do something courageous. Go for a walk. Save a squirrel from oncoming traffic. Write its will when you get home. Write the story of the squirrel’s great great grandfather who took this path every day when it used to be painted with acorns and oak trees as tall as mountains. Before its descendants’ brain synapses could evolve from the memory of this utopia, it became a manmade road. There are so many stories happening under your feet. Write them. 

I believe The Holy Spirit in me did not think of all the things it was going to remove from my life; quite the opposite, it mulled over all the wonderful things it was going to contribute. Perhaps, whatever darkness that was dormant in me from all the hurdles of my life was drawn to broken and immoral things. And in that same vein, whatever Jesus healed in me became drawn to stories of redemption, loyalty, sacrifice, of loving and caring for one another.