{Day 0} Airplanes

somewhere between San Diego and Sacramento

Airplane takeoffs are one of my favorite things in the world. Better than roller coasters, at least for me. I love the arrogant speed before liftoff, the way you'd never be allowed to go that fast on any other road. Faster and faster and faster 'til you're up, up, up off the ground and into the air and you're flying, you're really flying!

As I was enjoying the take-off from Austin this morning, God said I wasn't coming back down. Like, physically yes. But spiritually, I've taken off and there's no going back. I'm up high and going higher, level with the clouds, and I'm never going to land in this adventure with God. I'm only going up, and I'm never coming down.

my glimpse of San Diego

Landed in San Diego (the airport is right by the ocean, or at least some large, blue body of water with military ships in it) expecting a leisurely hour and a half layover. Haha, not so fast. The gate I came in on is in a different part of the airport - and it's not that big of an airport - and I had to go through a security again. (This one at the end of a long line, and I only had an hour left.)

In terms of panic, airport securities come in second only to scorpions, in my book. But I survived this one cleanly, even though I got taken aside for a random bag search. Said search actually worked to my advantage, because I got to relax in a side-area and arrange my poor I.D. and boarding pass 'just so' in my pocket after their tense trip through the x-ray machine. And I made my flight with time to spare.

somewhere between San Diego and Sacramento

And God wasn't done showing me things through airplanes. On this second stage of the trip, I realized something: I have no idea how airplanes stay in the air. I know it could be explained, probably has something to do with the force or thrust of the engines. But knowing it can be explained doesn't help me. I can't explain it. I can't explain how something weighing almost a million pounds (WikiAnswers, for the win) stays in the air. I know how it gets there. Anybody who's ever run and jumped knows that. But I don't know how it stays there.

That could scare some people. I know it scares people. But it's never scared me. I love flying, love airplanes, love the speed, as detailed above. It makes me happy. Watching the world zip past on the runway makes me smile. I'm almost laughing when I see the mountains from up above. And landings, well, there's nothing like the adrenaline rush of a landing. I love flying.

somewhere between San Diego and Sacramento

Granted, this all made more sense in my head. So many people go through life afraid - afraid of an adventure, or in the instance I was thinking of, a plunge into the activity of Holy Spirit. There's a lot of risks involved in both of those. Anything from looking strange...to death. But they're worth it. Diving into a world where God is alive, where He loves and lives and is active and vocal - it's worth it. It's the best thing in the world, even if you can't understand it. Even if it's not textbook.

Yeah, it scares some people. Sometimes it even scares me. But I know the joy I've found, and I know that there's nothing like it. It's kinda like flying, only way better. But you'll never find it if you hold back and hold onto your fears. The plane ride can be one of clenched fists and gritted teeth if you want.

the current view at the Sacramento airport

But you could let go. Let go of your fear. Let go of the fact that you have absolutely no idea what keeps the plane in the air. You know that it's flying, and that's enough. Enjoy it.