Wednesday, May 24, 2006


The hot wind hits my face as I go out the door. The heat is dry and heavy as I walk to the car.

The sky stretches around me dramatically and definitively reaching and touching the dry ground in every direction. The immensity engulfs me. I feel I can breathe deeply. Unencumbered. Open. Free.

The West Texas Sky.

In this vast desert land our treasure on the ground is the sky that touches it. In every direction. Deep. Blue. Lavender. The spectrum of oranges as the sun rises and sets.


God's artistry knows no bounds. His hand is evident everywhere. And I see Him here. Met Him here.

And for that this desert will forever be, for me, Holy Ground.

Where I learned His Name. Where I heard His Voice. Where I met His people.

The beginning for me. And thus always a part of who I am.

The memories. The smells. The sky.

All a part of yet another place I call home.


kristi w said...

Most people seem to find the greatest comfort in the type of territory in which they are accustomed. I have contrasted your mom's view of Oregon with mine of West Texas before. When she was here, I remember her talking about feeling "claustrophobic" because she couldn't see the sky. In comparison, the first time we drove from Odessa to San Angelo I held the door handle, realizing I felt like we were going to blow away. There was nothing to anchor us down! That is such a great thing about God's creation - so much beauty in so many varied forms.

Johnathan M. Thomas said...

I have been know to say, "Gods colors never clash." The beauty is everywhere... Even in Texas.


Jim Coffey said...

AMEN Sister - Preach On !!!

When we moved to East Texas we felt claustrophobic because we couldn't see the horizon and the trees grew so close to the road that it was like driving in a tunnel.

We got used to it and eventually Longview felt like home also.

It's interesting that 25 years later I still get a spiritual lift every time I drive up Ranger hill just west of Fort Worth. Of course it could just be the lack of humidity and smog that let's me breathe easier.

Rusty and Laura said...

I think for many of us, the place where we first met God and came to know Him, is a place that we cherish somewhere in the recesses of our hearts. I've traveled all over the globe and there is nothing that can draw my into a more intimate moment with the Maker as Central Oregon. The sun setting behind the Cascade Mountains. The dry, clean air. The endless number of stars in the sky. The sound of the sprinklers watering the crops. Driving at nightime and blasting the heaters because the the windows are down. Smelling the sage, alfalfa, potatoes. Mint harvest. God's handiwork is everywhere and it acts as a witness to us of His glory.

Steve Maxwell said...

For me, it is always God's beauty coupled with His people around me. I really miss the fact that Portland, is built in a big valley in the corner of two rivers. Here in North Texas buildings, houses, and "stadium's" are going up all over the place. The people are great and God is blessing us. I took Jonah to see my Dad and Stepmom and they really enjoyed him. When I am standing on your back porch in Fort Portal, that is "home". When I am in the PUMP house that is "home" and when I see my Saviour's face, that will really be HOME.