Every day as I drive home, I crest a hill on I-10 and I get a glimpse of the San Antonio skyline. It is usually a hazy view, one that reminds me just how polluted the air can get on a cloudless, 97-degree day.
There is, however, a decidedly different view on days when a storm has rolled through. You see, the rains clean the air of all of it's impurities and leave a crystal-clear picture of the towers of glass, stone, and steel in our city's core.
I think our hearts work something like that. Over time, a haze builds up. It isn't like we fell asleep at the switch or anything - it is just a natural occurrence. You live life and the pollutants that come with every day just sort of envelop you. And then, every so often, the storms of life roll through. Occasionally, they shake us to our very core. Inevitably, they wash us clean. Sometimes we just needed a good cry, a literal release. Other times, a storm causes a total reconsideration of the way things are done and we are able to once again see things for what they really are. We are able to crest the hill with clarity.