In Flight

For me, air travel transcends hopping into a metal tube and hurtling toward a destination. Strapping on the seatbelt means confronting terror and surrender, evaluating priorities and perspectives. But five minutes off the ground, after sorting through my existential musings, I settle in for the true pleasure of a flight—peering out the window.

Latest Answers

Stay up to date each week with top articles, blogs, news, videos, and more.

Sign Up Now

Speed, time, and space look different at 40,000 feet. I can see around riverbends, over forests, across mountains. My perspective lends me expansive vision of what’s coming miles ahead.

But I also lose perspective in the air. Grass blades, ant hills, dachshund whiskers, garden hose spigots—all lie out of sight beneath me. Wheels down returns me to the delight of details.

The One who lives in heaven sees across continents and centuries. Yet he sees each sparrow and lily, peers into windows, gazes into our eyes, and searches our souls, at once above us, among us, within us.