From the Sky

                           

You know, I have to keep believing that in heaven the clouds won't fall through. 

That they will be as soft and magical as I have imagined they are. That my bed will be made of them. 

I remember the devastation in my little girl heart the day I learned from the science center that clouds are nothing but water vapor.

 I’ve since renounced that truth in the light of knowing that God often does the impossible. That He can just as soon make the clouds a fluffy place to land as he made them only water vapor long ago. 

And I wonder.

 Is He really up here? And just how high up? Beyond the furthest undiscovered galaxies that even our most advanced space shuttles and teams will never reach? 

Or through just a few more layers of clouds? 

Or is He even up at all? Or perhaps sideways or diagonal or in a direction we have never even known or fathomed?

How much space really is between us?

And when on earth did I become the girl who asks people to water her plants while she is away and who orders cups of black coffee on airplanes?

I wonder when I became me. Like really. The truest version of myself. 

When I found her. Learned her. Understood her. 

When did I finally accept her?

Or have I yet?

What parts of her have yet to be found? Which parts have I yet to accept and to love?

Where will I find them and how and when?

I do believe I know myself and understand my intricacies and complexities and love pieces of the girl I have found along the way more than I used to. 

I discovered a lot of her in a city by the sea called Seattle. 

But I also believe there are pieces of her I will only find in light of another. In the mixing of another human heart and soul with hers. 

I’m happy to uncover those parts of her, but also content to spend some time here. 

Trying to grow plants and learning Spanish and drinking Loreli Gilmore amounts of coffee from mugs marked with adventure. From moments along the way when I discovered pieces of her heart and left others behind. Cultivating friendships in foreign lands over tacos and sprinkling everything with a zest of lime. 

And loving to be high in the sky in the endless bright white and blue. 

In love with the clouds as much today as I was long before I knew her at all. As much as I’m certain I always will be no matter what else I might learn about her in years and adventures to come. 

I am certain she will always adore the sky. 

That there her heart will forever feel alive and at home and free.