I just saw a rainbow in the sky while taking out the trash.
It was one of those days. The kind where the sky seems to wear your mood like a mirror, draped in grey, heavy with silence, pierced occasionally by the hiss of falling rain. I had been going through a storm of my own—not one that rustles trees or floods sidewalks, but the kind that brews quietly inside: doubts, disappointments, the ache of dreams deferred.
Then, just as the storm outside began to retreat, I looked up. There it was. A rainbow, faint at first, then bold and full, stretching across the sky as if heaven itself were brushing color back into the world.
There’s something about a rainbow that pauses time. It doesn’t demand attention with thunder or dazzle like lightning. It simply is — soft yet certain, a promise painted in light. In that moment, I remembered a truth we too often forget:
It’s not over.
A rainbow is often a sign of hope, but it’s also a sign of survival. It arrives not before the rain, but after. It's the sky's way of saying, "You made it through."
Tonight taking out the trash cans, I felt something shift. My problems weren’t gone, but the heaviness lifted. The rainbow didn’t fix everything, but it reminded me that even in the aftermath of turmoil, beauty is possible. Not just possible—inevitable.
We all carry storms. Some loud, others quiet. But if you look closely, there’s often a rainbow waiting on the other side. A whisper of encouragement. A gentle nudge forward.
So the next time life feels heavy, when your personal sky clouds over, I hope you remember this: The rainbow doesn’t mean the storm never happened. It means it didn’t win.
There is beauty after the storm.
And sometimes, that beauty is simply knowing that you’re still here—heart beating, eyes open, watching the sky turn from grey to a quiet, radiant glow.
Have you ever had a moment like this? I’d love to hear your rainbow story in the comments. And if this post resonated with you, share it with someone who needs a little light today.
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