While at various times over the course of my thirty-nine years of breath, I’ve been slated by some as a complex and rather intricate creature, I’m actually a down to earth and simple kind of girl. Practicality is practically my middle name and keeping it real my life’s goal. With me it’s all what you get is what you see, cut to the chase, forget the smoke and mirrors, and get to the point. Despite it all, however, I’ve always held on tight to high ideals, and strangely enough, the one thing I’ve never been accused of is walking with my head in the clouds.  Yet for as long as I can remember, that’s precisely where my head has always been.

During one of last week’s only sunny and summery (aka not humid) afternoons, I filled the girls’ kiddie pool and ventured into the world of the outdoors with my darlings for a few hours of play. Well, they played, anyhow. I sat and relaxed, while the girls cooled off my slightly swollen feet and legs with fresh cold water. At one point in our peaceful paradise, somewhere between just getting settled and intent on returning to the comfort of central ac, I sunk into my Adirondack chair and turned my face to the sky. As I stared into the clouds for what seemed like the first time in years, I didn’t expect to be taken aback so quickly or forcefully. Within seconds I was magically transported some thirty-five years back to my childhood and to my first real inklings of God.

I distinctly remember sitting by my bedroom window in our second floor apartment at dusk, watching the still setting sun illuminate the billowy clouds from behind, and thinking “ah, yes. God is there.” For me the clouds were the closest thing to His majestic nature that I could grasp at so young an age, giving life to all that I was learning about Him, and instilling in my tiny heart an overwhelming sense of comfort and grace.  In those wondrous white sky whispers, I had discovered a way of deepening my budding faith and anchoring myself to the rock that is the Creator of all things. How refreshing the innocence of childhood! The same innocence which fills me with wonder and excitement as I realize that my eldest daughter is almost that age now and imagine just how she will find her own way to Him.

Do you believe in God? Do you remember the first time that belief became real for you?