It was a December evening, and the sun was just starting to set, but the shades of gray made it seem like night. Gray is the color of winter; or so it seems in Indiana. In November, the clouds roll in and seem to stay till March. Every now and then the sky will open up for a day or so, letting the sun shine down on us, then it closes back up, but not before releasing a load of snow. These were the thoughts entering my head as I drove along the quiet road with my car aimed towards my destination.
I had stayed with my parents over the weekend. We had a wonderful time. We spent the weekend visiting and went to church Sunday. I didn't get the early start back home that I had planned on. It was very difficult to leave them, but it was a 2 hour drive and was time to get home.
I decided to take the less hectic route, avoiding the busy interstate. I wanted a quiet trip, needing time to reflect upon my visit with my elderly parents. It started to snow shortly after I left, but by then it was too late to go the interstate, so onward I trekked.
I spent some of my drive filled with the joy of counting; I counted mile markers, minutes, and the very few cars on the road. I was also counting the times a particular song played on the radio. It was close to Christmas, and it seemed as though every radio station was doing its best to wear out a certain song. I didn't want to hear "Grandma got ran over by a reindeer" one more time, but the radio was the only company I had to ease the trip. I kept trying to find a station, but many stations seemed to be suffering from an endless attack of static. This was not a good time to have a broken cassette player! If it was working, I could pick my own songs and no static.
By now, it had gotten dark. I continued to drive, guiding my car with my left hand and pushing buttons with my right. I named my radio search "tune tag." I became absorbed in this game of "tune tag" and I didn't realize I was drifting from the road until I felt a thump. I managed to stay calm and get back on the road. I looked in the rear view mirror to see if I had alarmed anyone with my little maneuver. The road was clear, but I saw a flash of red light. With an expression on my face similar to that of a deer caught in headlights, I looked around to see where the policeman could be. I thought the radio and lack of sleep had gotten to me, there wasn't a policeman in sight. Then I saw the flash of red light again. This time, I was looking out of the windshield and I watched a flash of light dance and frolic across the night sky.
Sometime during my drive it had quit snowing and the sky had cleared. The moon was shining and the stars stared down through a rainbow of color. Each movement of the light and shift of color brought a howl of static from the radio. Nature's symphony was being broadcast from the airwaves as it was being choreographed from above. I watched as my visual and auditory senses were overwhelmed. As I drove, I watched this incredible sight for quite sometime.
Eventually I made my way through my town and to the country road that led to my destination. Welcoming lights shown through the windows. I slid out of my car and walked up the walk. The wind blew cold around the corner, which hurried me along. But then I stopped for just a moment and looked up. The performance was over, but I knew it had been there; it was real and one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen.
God was with me during my journey home. He not only kept me safe, He provided me with a masterpiece I will always remember.