Those of you who know me well know that I have this thing for the sky. In fact, that's actually how I describe it: "my thing for the sky." In my eyes there is nothing more beautiful than it. It just blows my mind. One thing I love about living in Lubbock, and Texas in general, is that our sky has no end. It's like someone inverted a bowl onto a piece of paper. The heavens are deep and wide and your eye can never find the end of them. I've had this post on my heart for a while now. It was triggered by a message I heard in church a few weeks back, and since then I haven't been able to get the title out of my head: boundless. To me it's incredibly poetic. It speaks of achingly endless adventure. And isn't that what I want to be about?

When I think of boundlessness, it's the Texas sky that comes to mind. I love to run, but even more, I love to observe the sky when I'm out running in the mornings. It starts out kind of peaceful and sleepy, deep blues and dark grays. I love running toward the horizon in the east, because I get to this line of bright orange-gold split the sky, like a chink of light shining through a prison wall. That chink expands until the entire sky is ablaze with flames of goldenrod. Or maybe the chink softly shimmers into pinks and purples that drift in a gorgeous haze over the entire expanse. By the time I leave for school, the sky overhead is bright, vibrant blue, and gold-and-silver sunbeams pierce the windows in my apartment. Driving to school, facing east, is like being washed in sunshine. Those who know me well know that I'm the ultimate morning person. This is why.

Of course, sometimes our sky here isn't blue. This week it's been pretty gray and snowy. But it's so peaceful that I can't complain about it. And it is still so deep. There have been times I have tried to strain my eyes to see our horizon. It's completely unfathomable. Guys, words are totally failing me right now. I could just go on and on for days about the beauty of the sky, I'm trying to make a point here, and it's becoming incredibly difficult because I don't have the words to describe the beauty of the sky to my mind.

But i guess that's the point. The idea behind this post was the boundlessness of Christ. I remember jotting down the word "boundless" in my journal one day, in reference to God and His grace. There's really nothing I can say about it. This is super lame, because I'm supposed to be a writer: but there's really nothing I can say about it (Give me a break -- I'm a writer as my avocation. We all know I'm actually an opera singer).

I mean, come on. Every morning I get to wake up and see this gorgeous sky. I get to go to my favorite school in the world and do what I love most in the world with some of my favorite people. My community is amazing, and I'm incredibly blessed. How am I deserving? How is His grace so big?

How is HE so boundless? The sky is a reminder to me of how big He really is. My mom always talks about how big God is. "Sara," she says, "we're running around frantically in God's hands, and all the time He's looking down at us saying, 'It's alright. I've got this.'" The sky reminds me of His sovereignty. If He's bigger than even THAT, He can handle what's going on with me.

I guess that's the point I need to make. No matter what's going on in your life right now. He's got you. The end of the semester is kind of a crappy time. It's the final push, the home stretch. This is basically it for our semester. I know that I'm just trying to keep my head above the water right now. Yesterday, though, I was walking to my car and had this thought: it's not about keeping your head above water. He's already done that for you. It's about loving every moment of what He's given you.  All you can do is take joy. He's so much in control, y'all. He's the One Who made the boundless sky. He's truly boundless. There are no limits to Him. Don't put Him in a box -- He can literally do anything. He's boundless. He can handle your life. He made it.

And to Him, you're more beautiful than the sky.

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