Cloud Painting – Melanie Stokes Art

I spotted the sheep, scattered across barren land, as we travelled through west Texas. My husband and I had been discussing the need for rain in this area of the state. This image continued to develop in my mind as we rode along. And, after a few sketches to consider the composition, I had an idea for a new painting.

Tall wind-ravaged cedars, making me think of columns in a cathedral, pointed upward at the swirly thick clouds, as if begging them to drop rain. The sheep were grazing in different directions, seemingly oblivious of each other. And a Bible verse I learned long ago came to my mind. “All we, like sheep, have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.” Isaiah 53:6

(More contemporary language says it this way — “All of us were like sheep that had wandered off. We had each gone our own way, but the Lord God gave him the punishment we deserved. “) As a child, I learned that this spoke of Jehovah God sending Jesus to earth to rescue all of us wandering sheep from our sinful selves. And I accepted it and believed.

Sometimes sheep can be really stupid. They can wander with no direction. They only think of themselves. They get lost.

As I enter this Cloud Cathedral, I see the tall cedars pointing upward in reverence and the winds of hope swirling overhead with power, leading me to thoughts of the Lord God who sent Jesus. He brings redemption, forgiveness, and guidance in being more than sheep. And maybe, lacking a pipe organ in this cathedral, a shepherd boy’s flute plays a haunting, child-like melody, reminding me of Jesus when I wander from truth.

Maybe it’s because there were always trees in Georgia to buffer storms and hide the angry clouds. Maybe it’s because I have never lived in a house with a metal roof before this one, and couldn’t hear the pounding of rain. Maybe it’s because there is so much BIG sky in Texas! Whatever the reason, I have seen and heard a variety of powerful storms during this year and a half of getting settled into life in Central Texas.

We had a storm, a few weeks back, that caused aqua, purple and green clouds to twist and churn across the area. I happened to be traveling from one side of Waco to the other. As the clouds chased me in the rearview mirror and circled my car to whip around on my right side, I raced toward blue sky as fast as the 75 speed limit allowed. All was well. I arrived at a safe location. And later, as I rode back home, I was relieved to find that the storm had passed, the sun was shining, and there was only a trail of hail that had been left behind on the sides of the road.

As I worked on this big painting from my own photo, I struggled. I painted and repainted. The clouds seemed to shift shapes on the canvas as much as they do in real life. I would come back the next day and see something else to fix.

We all come through so many storms, some larger than others. Often, they don’t pass as quickly as a summer thunderstorm. Often, they are problems we struggle with for years. Often, they are so heavy that we have to stop and rest. Often, we have to release them to One with more power than we have to pull us through the pain.

Can you remember the biggest storm in your life? Even if you have come through it, it may be helpful to think back and be amazed at the light, the joy, the relief that broke through when you reached the other side. There is hope. While we are still in the storm, we keep traveling toward the light sky… and pray for breakthroughs to happen!