Buttermilk Skies

By: Deanna Marie Battista

Welcome blue ribbons! You've got mail. With this letter from heaven the angels sent, the most delicate and special of messages will illuminate. Through the clouds above that will always bear witness to the sunshine’s embrace. We have to alight our eyes to the way of utmost importance. The purpose we are set to find. The map our souls are meant to guide, so we can bring others towards Christ’s face. To hold on tight for us to let go of everything that shines in the skies, all that are created with a paintbrush from heaven; and follow the sound of the wind. In order for us to find purpose, we have to search through the joys of love, friendships, and mostly heartache. To peel back and expose underneath the bandaid, what your gift God gave could do if you just soared with it. To free yourself from everything that binds you away from your truest self. To bend with light instead of away from it. To glow and extend your hand out to the depths of what the mirror reflects, when it’s the one that Jesus is holding before you at the altar in church. It’s when you more than just hear your name called. It’s when your entire being is awakened setting the path that your spirit knows it’s the one you are meant to take. The most potent gut feeling and instinct to listen to your heart while shutting out the noise of the world and yesterday. What a prize it is to not just reach the finish line of what tomorrow and your bright future has promised. But to reach the start and begin the journey God has called on you to conquer. There is nothing we cannot do without God right by our side. We just have to keep steady and remind ourselves that the narrow path isn’t a hindrance; it’s precise. Just as hovering across any line should be warned against. It’s the very message that poses the lightest and heaviest of questions. To choose right or wrong. To hold onto hope and let go of all the pain, release all of the hurt that you have been carrying and storing away. To pray for the rain instead of wishing it to dissipate. This is what happens when you allow the sun and moonlight to intermix with your tears. To turn the once gray skies of your heart into anything but a kaleidoscope. Count the butterflies instead of telling them to fly away. Hold onto the clouds and wrap them around yourself where your bandages used to lay. Remove the dust from your eyes and don’t ever pinch yourself awake. Call out to the angels and the one who sent them your way instead. No more heartache, no more agony, and no more suffering. Not with this new found way you can see and feel the world around you now. This world that isn’t home just yet, this world that isn’t whole or broken completely either. Run and don’t hesitate towards the path the Father paved for you. Spread the good news and collect the stars that may fall from the sadness this paradise can sometimes implore. Don’t shatter with it, and if you do, don’t lose those pieces. Keep them safe and God will show you the brightest gift to adhere to. The better you it will take to get there. To get to the place where he is waiting for us all. To get to the place where no more tears will ever again fall. Until the next letter from heaven finds its way to us, let us open the window of our hearts into the direction the angels are pointing. To find the variation to peace that can make even the most bruised of hearts walk in faith, weigh as light as a feather, and as bask in the sweetness of what prayer can transform! Even those of the skies that behold the harshest of storms. 

       Yours Truly, 

                      Deanna Marie 

          Always Writing with Light