When I lived in Southern California, the blue sky was never really blue. As one looked up, there seemed to be an orange-colored tint to the sky. It was because the pollution, the smog layer, that dulled the brilliance of the blue. I remember a quip by Fritz Coleman, a weatherman on one of the local stations that like other parts of the United States, Southern California had air that could be chewed. What set Southern California apart from the rest was that it had a nice mesquite flavor to it.
When Kim and the kids and I would fly home to Wisconsin, the plane would take off and rise above that smog layer and when we looked down, we could see the orange layer. But above and behind that orange layer, was a brilliant blue sky.
The same happened when the plane took off and rose above a particularly heavy cloud layer. Gray and gloomy one minute, but sunny the next. Light Behind The Clouds.
We’ve run into a patch of stormy weather here lately. The day would begin sunny, perhaps with a few clouds, but by late afternoon or evening, the sky would become overcast, and boast a dark bruised sky, that would eventually burst with a sudden, sometimes pounding downpour.
Sort of like life.
Happy one minute. Everything going your way. Things falling into place nicely. And then in the next moment, and sometimes without warning . . .
It is human nature to get pulled in and to succumb to the dark and the gloomy, the foreboding and formidable. We’ve all been there. Perhaps there are those reading this who are still there.
But I might remind you, perhaps not so eloquently, that there is always Light Behind The Clouds. Always.
Just as when a plane takes off, it rises above the smog layer and one can see the brilliance of the blue. Just as when a plane takes off, it rises above the clouds and one can see the sun, the Light Behind The Clouds.
And, storms don’t last. They run their course. The clouds burst, rain pours forth, and then there is sun.
During those dark days when all seems gloomy and ugly, when all seems painful and lost, when there doesn’t seem to be any direction or help forthcoming, remember . . .
There is always Light Behind The Clouds. Always. Always. And until then, let the rain refresh you. Or as Fritz might say, enjoy the mesquite flavor. Smile. Something to think about . . .