All that Green and Blue

Since college began, I've boarded a plane roughly every 5 weeks. More during waterpolo season each spring, less during the fall. You got a question about flying right now? I'm your girl. And I have to watch bein' sassy at TSA. "Ma'am, you'll probably have to take off that bracelet for security." "No, it won't set it off. Promise." "Ma'am, I really think it will set it off. "No really. It won't. Watch." HA--boom. Told ya so, sir.

There are some things I'm really going to miss about flying. Because you see, I do three things on planes:

1. Sleep. This girl can pass out on a plane.

2. Talk.

3. Stare out the window.

I always book a window seat. Literally, always. Which means I have free reign to hog the window. And stare. Which I do.

So when I listened to the Get Down, to Get Up sermon by Louie Giglio a few weeks ago, a grin spread across my face. Sometimes, I'm forehead-against-plexiglass, lost-in-my-thoughts, lost-in-praise. Staring at this gorgeous planet. And it's like no one else on the plane knows that God is talking to me, sharing with me in that sweet moment. Saying "I know right?! I made that. Yup, that too." And I'm quiet. In awe.

As we pass over snow-capped Rockies.

Canyons.

Great Lakes.

Patchwork plains.

All that green and blue.

(from the sermon) "Meanwhile, the flight attendant is goin' up and down the row offering beverages and eight peanuts in a little foil wrapper. The guys behind me are in the telecommunications business. And they are prepping for their business meeting, and talking so loud that you can hear them over huge engines that are flying a plane. You know that guy? That you just wanna go 'Hello, this is not your office, bro. This is like, a community space.' And people are getting up and going to the bathroom... And I got a paper--don't care. An iPad? I could care less. I don't want peanuts or pretzels or a Sprite...I don't need to do anything because I've got about 59 minutes worth of majesty. And I can't stop lookin' at it.

"I just wanted to jump up and grab the microphone and give it a 'Hi, this is Louie. I'm not the flight attendant but I'm up here in uh, 1D and I'm not sure if you've noticed it or not, but there is literal awe and wonder going on on the right side of the airplane... Something out there will move your soul. Thank you very much.'"

I swear. I feel like that every week of my life.

I just got out of the car after a 6 hour drive from Ohio, and let me tell you, most people get bored by corn field after bean field after pasture after farm after cornfield after farm and on and on but I sat there contently with my eyes fixed on creation. It wasn't a beautiful day--gray clouds and rain--but it was beautiful creation. There was no blending in. God did not show His humility in His creation, that's for sure.

But I realized today: I get so struck over our nation's landscape. Made by a Love who crafted the u-n-i-v-e-r-s-e. And it hit me, He doesn't need to show me His universe because this is my portion. Right now, at least. It's like how You don't feed me answers to everything I want to know tonight. It'd be too much for me. This moment? This is enough to capture my awe and words and breath.

Perhaps that also translates into the rest of my life. I am a creation. My life is a creation, I suppose. Day after day I get frustrated that I don't have the timeline of my life before me. I get frustrated that God doesn't talk to me the way He talked to Moses. But now I'm realizing...it'd be too much.

He always knows what to supply me with. He loves us so...