walls of clouds

I went on a walk about a week ago and beheld a sight that makes me wonder how people can resist the idea of God, the Creator. I walked north, towards an amazing wall of clouds; thick, thunderous, and incredibly contrasted to the southern clear sky, these billows declared power and breathed the genius of the Creator (this photo is taken after I got home and much of the glory was gone; but you get the idea). As the sun sunk lower over the Rocky Mountains, it still clung to the upper reaches of the wall; illuminating them in unimaginable colors from blues and grays to purples, pinks, and oranges. This fortress of moisture was ever-changing as new pillows of white and orange spread up into the atmosphere.

A lot of people were beholding the clouds with me. I met a woman who said she kept tripping on her walk because she was so captivated by the scene, people driving by tried to keep one eye on the road and one out their window, three people gathered on their deck with elbows on the rail just awe-struck, and a boy smiled at me as I walked by and commented on how amazing the view was before quickly turning his face towards the clouds again. This colorful formation even made the evening news.

Lord, haste the day when our faith shall be sight. The clouds be rolled back as a scroll, the trump shall resounds, and the Lord shall descend. Even so, it is well with my soul. -- Horatio Spafford --