In the tree cover above me there's a window.~Miranda Cowley Heller (From The Paper Palace)

The morning is unseasonably cooler. The sky is an eclectic composition of grays and pinks, blues and whites. Clouds drift by and the sun blazes through their gauzy covering at intervals. I love the sky. It's an ally who is always there for me. Like my grandmother was.

My grandmother sometimes wore a "mother's ring." I can't remember if there was a stone for each of her eleven children. I do recall as a child when she would grasp my hand. Sometimes the ring would pinch when she squeezed my hand. But I liked the feel of the metal against my skin. I'd take my other hand and trace the tiny stones in her ring with my index finger--little seeds of pale green and topaz, rose and opal. I'd rub my thumb across the blue veins on the top of her small, strong hand. She'd eventually loosen her grip and we'd sit for a while holding hands and watch Jeopardy (she knew a lot of the questions that were really answers) or listen to J. Vernon McGee on the radio.

Sometimes looking out my window in the mornings is like sitting with my grandmother. A place to be myself and garner energy for the day. To feel loved by God as a grandmother's warm, weathered hand can make you feel. No pressure to be anything other than a beloved child basking in her presence. Skies gray as flint or expansive as an ocean of pink. All is well in that sheltered place. It's like looking up at the trees and seeing a rectangle of blue sky through the branches. The sun pouring gold into your heart. 

...the very way you've chosen to extend your kingdom: to those who become like trusting children.~Luke 10:21b (The Passion Translation)