Sky-Writing at Night

Thursday night we flew out for my husband's best friend's wedding. And while the weekend was certainly dedicated to the magic of their nuptials, the flight out was a deeply spiritual moment of meditation and communion in the air, and all for me. I am ever astounded by the surprise visits I receive...but I should never be surprised by the ones that come to me when I fly...for the air is my element after all.

It began when the sun was setting on the far side of the plane. Out the window on my own side, a soft blue sky rested on a layer of clouds, clouds that puffed and curled, like a foreshadowing of the rich frosting on the wedding cake. Above those cloud-curls and cutting across that powdery blue was an arc, a band of pink and misty gold. All this was hanging below an almost full moon, white-bright and glistening.

And my heart said to God, "How amazing that You'd make such a beautiful scene and all for Yourself as man does not naturally have this view."

And Your heart said to me, "But this sky I made for you--as I knew you'd be up here to see it tonight."

Then I mumbled to myself and glanced back into the cabin, rejoining the other passengers as they slept and read and used laptops. I chided myself for entertaining such grandiose thoughts, told myself I had not heard You at all.

But when You perceived my thoughts, You said, "You must learn to love yourself better than that. Otherwise, how will you ever get any closer to comprehending My love for you? Will you only walk in your current knowing of the depth of My love for you? Why can't you believe that I'd take one miniscule patch of sky for you and that on but one out of a multitude of nights and fashion it for you simply because I love you? You think that it is too much for me to offer you?"

So I sent my gaze back out the window and I received the sky, like a newly betrothed woman drinks in the sight of the engagement ring on her finger so did my eyes hungrily lock on the band of pink and the gem of a moon. And as my gratitude swelled, You gave me even more in response to my faith; a deeper sign that the sky was mine, and that in being mine by faith it became more than mine. It became everyone's in the way they are connected to me, even without their knowing.

For the plane took a strange turn to the north again and flew over the first glitter of light from a city on a hill. Now out my window hung the sunset in full: a deeper blue and at the very horizon a satiny ribbon of brilliant red. Blue and red glowed in the sky and no other colors. Blue and red, the colors that say home and family and chosenness between Thee and me and mine.

You turned and tipped that plane to the direction opposite its heading for a brief moment. You gave me Your message in the sunset, then set us back on course into the darker sky. And I stayed with that view through that tiny window as the colors dropped away into the blackness of night where I even yet contemplated You.

Then I wrote a psalm into the dark. (Maybe I will put it here, and another day maybe I will speak of Our communion in the clouds as I flew home on the Sabbath. ) But for now, I'll simply remember how on that night as the plane began to drop, You spoke to me one last time. Whispered down to me as I left You there, hovering in the air, You said, "Now you know why I'd fashion a sky just for you...because of the way you give it back to Me."