Thoughts from an Airplane

It is good to back far enough away from home that when I look at its framework, the crumbs under the kitchen cabinets, grading still to do, and projects lying unfinished aren't what I immediately see.  For a person who spends most of her time in the thick of cleaning, cooking, educating, encouraging, and playing (not always in that order) in a confined space, the lines made straight and smudges made smooth by distance are pleasing to this personality.  It is a gathering place for the people I love and it cradles us just right.  It is a place of peace, comfort, and blessing that meets so many functional, human needs.

It is good to miss my husband and children in a way that the very thought of the smell of their freshly, washed hair and adoring glances moves me to tears.  I miss the stream of never-ending conversation Micah and I share every day.  I miss the small ways the children develop before my eyes.  To feel their weight shift and strength grow when I pick them up or hold them tight.  The distance takes the drama out of the meltdowns and sweetens the embraces.

It is good for me to get away and see that I exist apart from bills, schedules, menus, and messes.  That while I have many titles, Daughter of The King is my first and is the most astounding.  To remember to marvel at the love I have been shown.  To continue to experience love going before me, holding me up, and following me around.

It is good to see the land change from time zone to city, ocean view to ascending~descending slope.  It deepens my understanding of the Creator and broadens my awareness of His self-revelation through the displays of artwork He displays across country.  His capacity to show who He is through the creation is extraordinary.

It is good to think of friends and family dispersed in areas below.  To remember when... and miss them.

It is good to be alone.  To quietly move and hear breath enter my lungs and feel my heart beat, steadily changing with the rhythm of activity.  To have a moment to remember the gift of living.  To meditate and reflect, repent and praise in the stillness of an out-of-the-ordinary day.  To have the space to struggle, mourn, and weep in the depths of a soul still learning.  To be surprised again by joy.

To spend time with a sister with whom I spent my most formative, unencumbered years and am still getting to know in adulthood.  To play and laugh as we used to, this time with developed ability and vehicular convenience all along the west coast.  To not have to give any background or details but simply move forward.

One of Many Sister-Selfies

It is good to converse with strangers and listen to their stories.  As our roads parallel for a few minutes, give thought to the matters close to them.  To hear with my own ears what is most dear to me spill out before them in vulnerability.  To know that Jesus, who is my hope, has the ability to save to the uttermost anyone who hears Him--- even through my stammering speech.

It is good to remember that I don't hold all things together in my presence or absence.  I find myself thanking God for the gift of being near to those I love dearly.  To have hands that serve them, however imperfectly.  To admit they are cared for and loved more than I am capable.  To be glad I can return home to be a part of that caring and loving today.

It is especially good to be reminded that while so much is good, it isn't the good I do or don't do, forget or remember that gives me life.  It is the Perfect Good of a Perfect Life always seeking and seeing the good ~ and in Him, I live, move, and have my being. And that is very good.