Shoving my carry-on in the overhead compartment, I slide in and take the window seat. I slip my tote bag underneath the seat in front of me, click my seatbelt into place and gaze out into the thick, grey sky. The sun is nowhere to be seen and the mood is overtly depressive. Pushing away from the jet bridge, we make our way to the runway and the bus on wings lifts off the ground.
Halfway through our climb, a ball of red light on the horizon catches my eye. Lost in a stare as I question where it’s coming from, we break through the clouds and my eyelids slam shut. Through squinted eyes, I discover its source — the sun. An intense, fiery orange-red sun kisses the top of the clouds with a soft red glow. Despite its brightness, I can’t stop myself from looking because the sight is brilliant.
Amazed, I’m struck by the fact that the city beneath me is blanketed with gloom, yet here, I’m blinded by the sun. And then it hits me. How often do I feel overcome by darkness, forgetting the truth that the sun is just above the clouds? No matter how dark the skies are, or how heavy the storm is, the sun never leaves. We might not see it, but that doesn’t mean it took the day off allowing darkness to overcome it.
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This is the beginning of my guest post over on (in)courage;
an amazing community whose goal is to encourage the hearts of women.
Click here to read the entire article.