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  • Writer's pictureKatie Kemp


“The sun is setting, the sun is setting!” I race to grab my three kids to come up to my bedroom- the best seat in the house to experience the sky’s nightly display. And in my home of Colorado with the enormous sky and western slopes as a backdrop, it truly is an experience. Especially because I’ve been a lifelong sunset chaser, I cannot get over how many different ways the sky can be arranged into a beautiful masterpiece. It makes me giddy.

Ever since becoming a mom to my daughter who is blind, sunsets have been a torn experience for me. I have a tinge of pain in my gut because of the reality that my daughter will not be able to partake in it. Sure, I do my best to describe the experience as do my boys, but words so often fall short. My excitement for it usually justs adds to my pain for her missing out.

“Feel the warmth on your face.” I tell her as she faces the horizon and feels the last few rays directly shining on her as if they knew exactly where to send their light.

This night the sky was outrageous. Corals and reds, deep luscious color beautifully illuminating the entire sky. I usually would downplay a sight like this but this night something bubbled up in me.

“Oh Hallie! God spread these colors across the sky to whisper to our hearts how much he loves us. He paints with clouds and light but I imagine He also paints with the colors of the heart. What if sunsets were made out of some of the joy that God gathered up from that day inviting it to burst into dance across the sky?” I whispered, “What brought you joy today? I’m sure it’s being used right now.”

We bantered back and forth about the joy of our day, but then we started to think about joy from everyone, everywhere. We talked about other kids lives we could imagine all around the world, the chorus of giggles that certainly had been lassoed and flung into the sky.

“And what if He gathered all the tears that were shed today. Maybe skinned knee tears, broken hearted tears and the I miss you tears as well as those sneaky happy gratitude tears and put them in the clouds to add depth and shadow. What made you cry today?” We pause and ponder for a moment.

“Do you think God can paint with joy and grief at the same time?” I wonder out loud as I dream about the stories people hold, as well as the one I was carrying in that exact moment.

And what if he took the laughter from the day from a pun or a joke or a funny embarrassing situation. And he illuminated the setting sky as if to say, ‘Give it one last laugh.’ What did you laugh about today?” She recited one of her made up puns that are stored in her mind to share at any moment’s notice.

We giggle and snuggled and chatted some more. “We are so lucky to have participated in this beautiful day. I love this reminder that God displays every night. The reminder that he saw those joy-filled or sad or laughing moments too and is showing us how much he loves us, how much he sees us, how much he is for us. Do you feel that?” I ask my daughter.

“Yes,” she snuggles in closer and I’m reminded of this: a deep knowing of God’s Love is absolutely something my daughter has the ability to see.


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