Kansas City Chronicles - Day 2 (riding high)
I'm sitting in the second seat from the window on a plane on my way to Kansas City. As long as the woman next to me doesn't get the awkward idea that I am staring at her, I can look past her head and see the scenery outside. For the most part, clouds are the only thing visible as far as the eye can see. Every now and then the curtains of the misty white expanse will recede for just a moment and reveal a cross section of an earth-colored mountain range. I presume we are flying above Colorado right now, or at least near to it.
I feel surprisingly peaceful. More than a week ago I was already enlisting friends and relatives to pray specifically for my time in the airplane. I've flown all over the country numerous times, and to Asia three times (one in which I flew back home to CA by myself), but since the onset of the symptoms of Lyme Disease last summer I've been experiencing heightened levels of anxiety and even panic attacks that have since made me leary of traveling long distances or being in small enclosed spaces. So, naturally, I've been cringing at the thought of my first plane ride in this emotionally crippled position. But by God's grace, this day has actually been an incredible blessing so far.
To the contrary of my fears, my soul is at rest right now. I am not holding my head next to my knees in agonizing pain because of the cabin pressure as I imagined, nor am I pacing up and down the aisles with wild eyes looking for an experienced flight attendant to hold me in her arms until the plane lands and the seatbelt signs are off. I may save that for the ride back, but for now I am fine.
In fact, flying high on a canopy of clouds can give one a feeling of transcendance. Even now, I look outside and see the sun's rays reflecting off of the white puffy masses, giving them a heavenly golden hue. The blue sky is byond it, and my destination lies before me. I'm above the pain of my problems, nagging responsibilites, and the incessant worries about the future. It's a good picture of what the believer is offered on a daily basis, I think to myself. We are called to ride high in the Spirit above and beyond the failure, death, shame, and religious systems of this present world. To be carried on the wings of God on a shimmering white expanse of His grace, each and every day. Our inheritance is a deposit of peace for the present, and an endless reservoir of hope for the future. In the midst of all the pain, there are moments when are eyes are opened wide enough to see that we are truly seated with Christ in heavenly places (Ephesians 2:6); freed from the law of sin and death and released into the peace of the law of the Spirit of life (Romans 8:2). For right now, at least, I can peer past the darkness of my own circumstances and see the face of my Father just beyond that glassy blue expanse. And He is smiling...
Between the shuffling and bustling that occurs during every one of my frequent trips to the bathroom, I read excerpts from Oral Roberts' autobiography, Expect a Miracle. So far, my favorite part is when he was miraculously healed from tuberculosis. He was only 18, and in those days there was no cure for it, so he was basically on his death bed. In fact, the dude wasn't even saved when his sister ran into his room and spoke, as he writes, seven words that changed his life - "Oral, you are going to be healed!" I haven't read much of the rest of the book yet, but I've read this chapter twice now, and both times that part has made me cry. Hope in a good God that loves to heal His children flooded into his being, and he gave his life to Jesus a few days later. It was truly the kindness of God that led him to repentance (Romans 2:4). So much for earning our healing - he wasn't even a Christian when he received the promise. Only weeks after his salvation, the terminally ill teenager was driven to the crusade of a healing evangelist, miraculously healed, and given his primary life calling by the voice of the Lord.
The whole story is a poignant reminder to me that Christ loves us and gives Himself to us at our weakest point. Indeed, "when we were still without strength, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly...But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:6,8). In the place of our deepest shame; in the moment of our fiercest rebellion, THAT is when Jesus steps onto the scene, extends His arms of love toward our broken lives and says: I want you. Follow me.
Oh, thankyou God, for Who You are! Thankyou for such love; Your mercies reach unto the heavens, and Your truth unto the clouds. Thankyou for healing Oral Roberts and giving him such a beautiful life. Thankyou for the good plans You have for Your children, in this age and in the one to come. Amen.
I feel surprisingly peaceful. More than a week ago I was already enlisting friends and relatives to pray specifically for my time in the airplane. I've flown all over the country numerous times, and to Asia three times (one in which I flew back home to CA by myself), but since the onset of the symptoms of Lyme Disease last summer I've been experiencing heightened levels of anxiety and even panic attacks that have since made me leary of traveling long distances or being in small enclosed spaces. So, naturally, I've been cringing at the thought of my first plane ride in this emotionally crippled position. But by God's grace, this day has actually been an incredible blessing so far.
To the contrary of my fears, my soul is at rest right now. I am not holding my head next to my knees in agonizing pain because of the cabin pressure as I imagined, nor am I pacing up and down the aisles with wild eyes looking for an experienced flight attendant to hold me in her arms until the plane lands and the seatbelt signs are off. I may save that for the ride back, but for now I am fine.
In fact, flying high on a canopy of clouds can give one a feeling of transcendance. Even now, I look outside and see the sun's rays reflecting off of the white puffy masses, giving them a heavenly golden hue. The blue sky is byond it, and my destination lies before me. I'm above the pain of my problems, nagging responsibilites, and the incessant worries about the future. It's a good picture of what the believer is offered on a daily basis, I think to myself. We are called to ride high in the Spirit above and beyond the failure, death, shame, and religious systems of this present world. To be carried on the wings of God on a shimmering white expanse of His grace, each and every day. Our inheritance is a deposit of peace for the present, and an endless reservoir of hope for the future. In the midst of all the pain, there are moments when are eyes are opened wide enough to see that we are truly seated with Christ in heavenly places (Ephesians 2:6); freed from the law of sin and death and released into the peace of the law of the Spirit of life (Romans 8:2). For right now, at least, I can peer past the darkness of my own circumstances and see the face of my Father just beyond that glassy blue expanse. And He is smiling...
Between the shuffling and bustling that occurs during every one of my frequent trips to the bathroom, I read excerpts from Oral Roberts' autobiography, Expect a Miracle. So far, my favorite part is when he was miraculously healed from tuberculosis. He was only 18, and in those days there was no cure for it, so he was basically on his death bed. In fact, the dude wasn't even saved when his sister ran into his room and spoke, as he writes, seven words that changed his life - "Oral, you are going to be healed!" I haven't read much of the rest of the book yet, but I've read this chapter twice now, and both times that part has made me cry. Hope in a good God that loves to heal His children flooded into his being, and he gave his life to Jesus a few days later. It was truly the kindness of God that led him to repentance (Romans 2:4). So much for earning our healing - he wasn't even a Christian when he received the promise. Only weeks after his salvation, the terminally ill teenager was driven to the crusade of a healing evangelist, miraculously healed, and given his primary life calling by the voice of the Lord.
The whole story is a poignant reminder to me that Christ loves us and gives Himself to us at our weakest point. Indeed, "when we were still without strength, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly...But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:6,8). In the place of our deepest shame; in the moment of our fiercest rebellion, THAT is when Jesus steps onto the scene, extends His arms of love toward our broken lives and says: I want you. Follow me.
Oh, thankyou God, for Who You are! Thankyou for such love; Your mercies reach unto the heavens, and Your truth unto the clouds. Thankyou for healing Oral Roberts and giving him such a beautiful life. Thankyou for the good plans You have for Your children, in this age and in the one to come. Amen.
Comments
Give Dan a slap on the butt for me.