About a half hour into the flight, I looked out the window. What I saw dazzled me, I felt like I was inside an artist's depiction of what 'heaven' would look like. It was late evening. The sun was setting to our left amidst delicate hues of orange, peach, and yellow, into a carpet of monsoon clouds that raced and gushed across the sky. This was no ordinary carpet - intricately woven, soft and delicate on the feet. I'm quite sure I noticed a footprint or two. Ah! perhaps this was where angels trod. And far into the distance, a cloud rose up from the carpet, silhoutted by the golden rays of the setting sun. And that would be where the angels convened at the end of this glorious day. To either side of the peach-colored sun, rising up into the clear blue sky above, completely still in sharp contrast to the rushing carpet below, were two enormous clouds. The clouds assumed the shape of two people with folded hands, bent forward towards the sun. Paying obeisance to the Sun God. There was a stillness all around. Except for the rushing carpet below.
As if in blessing, the rays of the sun filtered through the clouds, forming four distinct shafts of light. I call them the Fingers of God. I watched them, as they flowed down through the clouds onto the earth below.
That was all I could say.
I felt closer to God than ever before. No wonder we look up when we talk to God. And it's no coincidence that we sing "...the Lord up above.."