I’m writing from the plane for the first time.
I bring my laptop with me every time, but aside from the odd times I get caught up in an engaging conversation with the stranger next to me, I never do any writing, quite honestly, because I’m paranoid that they’ll be watching my every keystroke and mental lapse as I bare my soul to this electronic box.
For some reason as I roamed the airport leaving Atlanta, my bags felt heavier than when I arrived. I think it was just because I was feeling exhausted, but each time I passed through a security checkpoint, I kept picturing them pulling out several kilo’s of cocaine… I guess I’ll find out when I get home.
As we were about to take off the pilot announced that the computer was experiencing some glitches and they needed to ‘reboot’. The engines, air, and lights all went off. I’m praying right now that’s not going to happen in mid-air.
It was a bumpy ride penetrating through the clouds as we shot up into the dark skies. Head pressed against the window, I had my usual thoughts of “Lord grant me more time on this earth so that I might fulfill all the things you’ve put in my heart”.
It’s hard to tell how much of that prayer was a front for something more selfish.
But just as the plane broke through the rumbling darkness, a hush of calm came upon the plane as it hovered just about the stratus.
Overlapping lines of red, orange, yellow, green, blue stretched across the horizon.
“God this is so beautiful” just kept rolling off my lips. Finally, it was a prayer I knew had nothing to do with me, and absolutely everything to do with the God who created all of this.
What’s amazing is that I’m watching in the sky, something humanity for thousands of years could never see, but was always here.
Hrmm… something almost profound about that last statement. I think I’ll need to end here.