| BETHESDA, MD
— I have flown almost everywhere I have traveled this
year. Taking to the air has taught me some important lessons about
life:
We’re all in this together: The intimate ritual at the
security checkpoint never ceases to amaze me. Off come the belts,
the jewelry, the jackets and the shoes. Strangers pat me down.
When my moderatorial cross triggers the alarm, dozens of people
stare me down. There is no aristocracy or pecking order. Unless
you’re a pilot late for her plane, you stand in line like
everyone else. We become community-dependent on each other for
a safe and smooth process. Maybe, if Palestinians and Israelis,
angry wives and philandering husbands, conservative Presbyterians
and liberal Presbyterians had to stand together in a security
line for several days, we might indeed have peace on earth.
The big picture is breathtaking: Whenever I gaze down upon
the beauty of Washington, DC, or the vast fertility of our American
cropland, or the splendor of Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, I am
reminded of how insignificant I am in the vast panoply of God’s
imagination. I may be fretting about what I am going to say at
the next meeting, but then I gaze out the plane window and find
comfort in the fact that who I am and what I say is God’s
creation, not mine. I am but a walk-on in this drama called life.
We are not in charge: I was stranded out of state when
the floods hit the Baltimore area last year. On another trip,
my plane sat on the runway for an hour because Air Force One had
priority. A week ago, I flew in and out in 24 hours —
both times in sleet and snow. There was nothing I could do about
any of it. And yet, as a result of these unexpected delays, I
had dinner with a stranger and shared wonderful conversation about
motherhood. I got to read a novel for the first time in weeks.
And in the midst of sleet and snow, I found myself deep in prayer,
finding my weary soul filled with God’s fresh energy. Thanks
be to God for these reminders that we are not in charge, but that
God’s time is always creative time.
One of my lasting memories of Africa is of flying in the co-pilot’s
seat in a nine-passenger plane. Below was the landscape of western
Ethiopia, a breathtaking quilt of greens and yellows. No power
lines, no skyscrapers, not even a paved highway in sight. Captain
Solomon kept pointing out the hidden jewels of his native land.
As I felt our lives blend together, as I marveled at God's creation,
and as I reminded myself of countless unexpected gifts, I was
filled with gratitude for the providential, life-changing grace
of God.
My friends, buckle up for the year that stretches ahead of us.
Look for the big picture, savoring the people who share this ride.
And give thanks that our sovereign and saving God is in the cockpit,
guiding us to the places we need to go. |
