The clouds hang heavy and low, skating across the green and brown landscape, hiding the mountains, so barely the “P” in Prescott could be seen from the highway. As I drive, I breathe in the fresh, wet air and think of John 3:10-12 (NIV):
“You are Israel’s teacher,” said Jesus, “and do you not understand these things? Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things?
Sprays of sunlight come down from heaven onto the tumbled rocks of the dells, highlighting their reddish colors. A watering hole, full from last night’s intense rain, reflects the sky. If God’s creation is this beautiful, how much more so will Heaven be when I arrive?