It started one morning back this winter.  I was walking by myself and looking at the sunrise.  Off in the distance was a big billowing cloud with gentle brushing of pink rising on it as the sun broke over the horizon and climbed in the sky.

I had been out walking the morning of our first Easter assembly.  For some reason as I rounded the bend to head towards home, I found myself missing my dad so much that my lip began to tremble.  In a fond memory, I thought of how he had come to my rescue one of the assembly weekends the year before.  He just appeared at my door a little before 8:00am on a Saturday morning to help wrap Easter baskets.  Mark had been called out-of-town and my niece (my sister Robin and her husband Leo–they were my helpers) had come down with the flu.  Though they had planned on staying the night, they ended up going home in the wee hours of the morning.  My dad heard them arrive.  He told me that he knew then that he needed to come so he got up early, despite feeling awful, and drove down.  There he stood on my doorstep…an answer to a literal prayer for help…without me even asking…yes, that was my dad. 

As I walked down the road reflecting on that moment, I suddenly felt as if he was very near.  For some reason, I looked around and then up.  I felt so very close to him as I looked at this beautiful cloud…it was turning pink, looking so soft and majestic.  The thought brought me much peace and comfort, so wanting to document this process of grief, I took out my phone and snapped a picture of it.  Really, just for me….or so I thought.  To remember that cloud.  To remember that moment that seemed so comforting.  To remember that maybe he really isn’t that far away…

So I filed the picture away.  Don’t you love those digital storage devices?  Actually I am quite grateful for them.  In June, I began trying to catch up on printing off those pictures and putting them into my 2012 album.  As I came to that week, I printed that picture and journalled my thoughts, not wanting to forget it.

Fast forward.  For the last 9 years, we have gone camping in Traverse City with my siblings and parents.  This was our first year without my dad.  We all started out strongly committed to carrying on this tradition, but as it drew closer, it became harder.  I thought I was doing well until we pulled out of my driveway.  The thought of going north without my dad was almost more than I could bear.  You see, he was always the most excited…giddy like a school child!  Big smiles, everything was great, and enthusiasm that could ignite a fire in the coldest of souls.  That was him, and boy, how I missed the build up of excitement in him.  But by the time, we reached our destination, I was excited to arrive…knowing he wouldn’t want me to be sad or cry too long…that just wasn’t my dad.  And…how can you not love Traverse City?

My parents had a boat when we were young.  I actually remember riding in it and I couldn’t have been much more than 4 years old.  When I was in my teens, they bought another and summers were spent tubing on the reservoir near their house.  Lots of fond memories of water and boats.  As life has it, last year, Mark and I took the plunge and bought a used one.  My dad came down to take a look at it and tell us what he thought.  He loved it and told me, “That’s the one!”  Later, he quietly shared how glad he was that we had bought that one…he felt strongly that it was perfect for us.  And he was right.  We love it!

This year was our second year out on the bay with it.  We took it up last year, and I was blessed to be able to spend some time with my dad on it.  The picture below is his last catch…a big small mouth bass…he loved fishing!  That trip was the beginning of when the cancer returned.  He spent much of it not feeling good…he told us that he wished his back felt better (the doctors thought he had pulled a back muscle) so that he could get up on water skiis again.  As with life, sometimes, things are just not meant to be…

This year, as we floated on the bay watching the sunset, I again spotted a cloud that made me feel closer to him.  Please know that not every cloud makes me feel that way…just some and this was the first time since back in February.  I was puzzled at my feelings, and left wondering why did looking at that cloud trigger such a feeling of closeness to my father?  I pondered it for a while but to no avail, and then decided to just let the comfort flow over me despite the lack of logic to it.  I didn’t fight trying to understand, but rested in the beauty of the clouds and sunset.

The next morning I decided to spend some time in God’s Word before my guys got up.  I opened my Bible to Daniel 7.  For some reason, verse 13 caught my attention: “In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was the one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven.”  I continued reading on, but kept coming back to the end of that verse, specifically to the clouds of heaven.  At that point, I wasn’t thinking of the previous night, nor of clouds, nor of my dad.  I was just following the nudging (the pull) to explore it more.  As I read the note, I was surprised to learn that “the clouds of heaven portray the Son of Man as divine; throughout the Bible CLOUDS REPRESENT the His majesty and awesome PRESENCE…Revelation also records Christ coming with the clouds.”  (capitalization emphasis, mine).  Life Application Study Bible, note to Daniel 7:13, 14.

I was a little shocked.  Was that why I feel the majesty of God when I look at His sky? And then it hit me…often my greatest comfort in the most painful moments of this grief is in knowing and trusting that my dad is now with God.  Remembering that he is in heaven catches me from wishing too hard for him to be here.  My mind shifted to that photograph in February, then to the sunset the night before.  Was there something more in this?  Something very personal to truly help me understand the reason and depth of this feeling?

Yes, it seems.  Clouds…they are everywhere in the Bible…much like the sky!  In Revelation 1:7, it states that “‘Look, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even those who pierced Him…‘”  There is so much Scripture correlating God with clouds that I was (and still am) astonished.  “The cloud filled the temple, and the court was full of the radiance of the glory of the Lord.”  Ezekiel 10:4God guided Israel by a cloud during the day. Exodus 13:21.  “When the priests withdrew from the Holy Place, the cloud filled the temple of the Lord.  And the priests could not perform their service because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled His temple.”  1 Kings 8:10-11.  “When He was speaking, a cloud appeared and enveloped them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud.  A voice came from the cloud, saying, ‘This is My Son, whom I have chosen; listen to Him.’  When the voice had spoken, they found that Jesus was alone.” Luke 9:34-36

It slowly started to sink in that God, through His Word, was answering the question of my heart the night before as I floated on the lake…I find closeness to my dad in the clouds because God is there.  Where He is, my dad is also.  Funny, days earlier, I found myself fascinated by these two clouds hovering so close together in a virtual cloudless sky.  Again I wasn’t sure why they caught my attention, but they did…If clouds represent His majesty and His Presence, then those who are with Him must be ever so near to us.  Might that be why we are drawn to lay on the ground and look up at the clouds, or why couples watch the sunset together?  Is that why people love to take pictures of them?  Or the foundation of why we “owe and ah” over them?  It is when you find people gathering together along a shoreline…as if we are all drawn to the majesty of the setting sun and its dazzling clouds and colors.  I sat humbled and in awe…

The neat thing is that I often look at the clouds closest to sunset.  Mark and I have loved sunsets since as long as I can remember.  And my dad loved sunrises and sunsets too.  As a young adult, I have fond memories of praising the beauty of a sunset with my dad.  Either looking out the kitchen window or standing in the backyard, but it really didn’t matter where we were.  In fact, one of the hardest memories for my family (or maybe just myself) during this camping trip was the memory of a sunset that we watched when we were afraid it would be his last up north.  The future seemed so unknown, and yet God granted us this magnificent display in the sky that night.  His wish that evening was to see the sunset.  As the color exploded in deep shades of pink, orange and purple, he sat in the car with tears streaming down his face.  It was one of the most glorious sunsets we had seen in a place that is near divine…a place we all love, he loved.

Since my dad has passed away, I have been watching the sunsets with even more passion and zeal.  It has been in this process of watching that I’ve noticed little nuances.  As I have paid more attention in these passing months, clouds can make all the difference in taking a sunset from beautiful to breathtaking.  They reflect and pick up the Son (oops, I mean sun) in a way that is remarkable, adding and reflecting colors…sometimes pinks, deep oranges, reds, purples, mixtures of grays and blues.  Both Mark and I noticed that sometimes you don’t even realize there are clouds in the sky until all of a sudden they are bursting with color.  The picture below was right after the sun dipped down below the horizon.  There wasn’t much color and there appeared to be little to the cloud that hung on the edge of the sky.  It was nice, but not stunning.

Twenty minutes later…stunning was a mild way to put it!

A few days after this revelation, I was again sitting on our boat watching the sun set hoping to catch its play on the clouds.  While the whole sky didn’t break out into what I had hoped for, there was this little patch that was incredible.  The brightness and yellow were hard to capture, but captivating nonetheless.  These little wisps at the top of the glowing cloud began to curl up and slowly change shape as if separate from themain gray cloud that hung below blocking the sun from illuminating the rest of the sky.  Still the rays of setting sun broke through making them seem almost surreal.  As I sat there and watched, I had a new perspective on why I was again feeling comfort sweep over me.  This time, though, there were no questions.  My eyes brimmed with tears filled with joy and gratefulness for God’s kindness in granting my heart the understanding of how close He and my dad really are!

“But God made the earth by His power; He founded the world by His wisdom and stretched out the heavens by His understanding.  When He thunders, the waters in heaven roar; He makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth.”  ~Jeremiah 10:12-13