Thursday Thoughts Reflecting on Montana’s “Big Sky”
I was born in Havre, Montana, on a late spring day. Eighteen years later—almost to the exact day I was born—I graduated as a proud “Blue Pony” from Havre High School. During the years in between, my core values were birthed; my love for learning was stimulated; and my spirit was formed under Montana’s “big skies.” When I was 18, my parents moved to Washington State, and since then time in Montana has been spent as a visitor.
I love the state of my birth. There’s something that feels almost noble about being a Montanan, a native of this spacious, sparsely populated land. What captivates me every visit is the vastness of Montana’s skies. Often through the years, my husband and I have had this predictable conversation:
Me with wonderment: “Honey, look at how big the sky is!”
Ron, always pragmatic: “I guess that’s why they call it ‘Big Sky Country!’”
Recently, we made a quick trip to southeastern Montana to visit my cousin and her husband, both Montana natives, as well as Ron’s high school friend and his wife, who are Montana transplants. We enjoyed every marvelous minute of visiting, exploring, photographing, and enjoying delicious home-cooked meals.
The Montana sky seemed extra special during this visit, comforting to my soul. When Ron sent photos he had taken during our trip, I was pleasantly surprised to see how many captured the “big skies.”
I hope Ron’s photos, selected Scriptures, along with brief comments, bring comfort to any part of your soul needing reassurance.
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.
Genesis 1:1 (NLT)
By wisdom the Lord laid the earth’s foundations, by understanding he set the heavens in place;
An impressive storm swept through the day before we left. This photo reminds me that sometimes the direction I need to go is obscured by the storms of life. During times like this, I discover a sense of hope in favorite psalms like:
Show me your ways, Lord,
teach me your paths.
Guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my Savior,
and my hope is in you all day long.
Psalm 25:4-5 (NIV)
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.
Psalm 19:1 (ESV)
A profound realization in my spiritual journey is that God is both INFINITE and INTIMATE. The psalmist David captured this awareness as he considered “big skies.”
I look up at your macro-skies, dark and enormous …
Then I look at my micro-self and wonder,
Why do you bother with us?
Why take a second look our way?
Psalm 8:3-4 (MSG)
One night many years ago, I felt terrified and directionless, and I believe the Divine Spirit led me to Psalm 139. This chapter of Scripture, one I return to repeatedly, assures me God knows me, loves me, and builds a protective fence around me (and around all those I love).
You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
Psalm 139:5 (NIV)
[God] dresses the skies in darkness,
covering them with clothes of mourning.
Isaiah 50:3 (NLT)
An old, seemingly useless, wagon rests artfully on my cousin’s property, the perfect complement to the Montana nighttime sky.
The heaviness of loss and grief weighed upon my heart during this getaway. The day before we left, we attended the memorial service of a longtime friend who died from complications related to Alzheimer’s and a fall. The day before we returned home, our daughter called to report her beloved mother-in-law had just transitioned into her eternal home.
I recalled words of my friend Pastor Rodney Wright reminding people “Grief isn’t what’s wrong with us but what’s right with us.” Even though I like nothing about death, I do honor and appreciate the exquisite quality of grieving and sacred acts of mourning.
The evening before we departed, I wandered alone to the expansive back porch of our friend’s lovely home. Gazing into the dusky sky, I pondered life and loss. The transition of my friends as they moved from their meaningful earthly lives to their eternal homes. I considered how my days—as I understand them—are both significant and yet terribly brief.
Heaven felt very real as I gazed into the Montana “Big Sky,” and I asked Jesus to say hi to my friends. The final words of my beloved Psalm 139 seemed important to pray:
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.
Psalm 139:23-24 (NIV)
Blessings on your journey,
