Before me, a window of clouds had parted, making an actual doorway through to the true-blue of the sky, with sunshine just around the corner lighting up the edges. Like heaven was waiting just behind that red-tinged doorway of clouds.
I wondered how people could be driving calmly in their cars and not stopping to stare. I biked faster, wishing I could fly or that it would descend. Everything would make sense there and I'd see the face of God.
The clouds moved closer, the gap closing. I felt a tangible sense of loss when the sunlight eased away and tiny raindrops dashed the ground around me. Quiet lightning flashed purple.
Then the sky parted again and a single beam of light angled down. This is what it's like while I'm still planted on this solid ground. I cannot see the face of God, but I can see His hand in everything. I see Him, but not yet His face. Oh, I can't wait for that day when the clouds part for good and He comes down.