Sunny with a high of 75

I remember squinting out my driver's window at the strange yellow-gray that the sky does when the sun's setting behind a thin line of stormish clouds and thinking, "I want to be like that to somebody."

Noland Road is alive sometimes. especially in sunlights like that, where the green becomes even greener, the blacktop becomes even blacker, the white of the old church house dims in a refreshing way. Just because the sky isn't bright, whitewash blue doesn't mean everything on the ground isn't alive and thriving and growing. And a sunset in a veil makes it easier on the eyes, with no less passion. Like the sky is fully satisfied with itself, completely content to roll with the punches. Like its giving a sigh of relief.

cool. refreshing. like a breath of fresh air, bringing rest. But still not promising that everything's going to be ok. And ancient push and pull, giving life and asking for peace in return.

I by no means think of myself in these terms. My head is not so large- at least I certainly hope not. I just wish I could possess that type of beauty in myself, BE that to someone. That's the place that I want to get to, in everything, in my walk with Christ, in my portrayal to others. That's the spot that I want, but am not sure I will ever achieve. Not that effortlessness, but the be-ness that doesn't always jump astride a challenge, a push, a drive that exhausts and drains out everything save for panic.

Its not that effort is the villain. Just that I'm tired of being eaten alive. I'd like to look like that sky now and then. maybe.

perhaps.