As I took a walk in the countryside one morning this week I stopped along the way. In the wide open spaces of Central Kansas I pondered a few things. I looked to the sky where there were many clouds moving slowly to what seemed to be the northeast. Some of these clouds were white and some were darker with color. The sky was blue in the distance and the sun hidden behind them was peeking out ever so lovely.
The thoughts in my mind touched on the clouds being symbols of all the believers of Christ, making their way to somewhere better than here. Some had dark moments and others lighter shades of white. Each with their own story but yet each having a connection to one another. Traveling along as if in unison. The bond between them being the faith they have and the belief of their Father in Heaven.
Then the thoughts in my mind were of the father I had here on earth, the one that passed away nine months ago. I found myself visiting his grave this past weekend. You can see where the small whole is that holds the box of his ashes. The grass hasn’t completely grown in and the rain has pointed it out. The headstone was lovely and the cemetary well-kept. I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t really anything. Just kinda indifferent. I know that one day I will see him again for he was a believer and baptized in Christ. I don’t know how often or if I will appear at his grave again, all I know is today.
As I began to walk again, I looked into the distance. The clouds were still making their journey and so shall I.
Grace is a gift,