Life in Christ

We flew home yesterday and today from Anchorage. As we flew in to land at Seattle, an analogy to flying came to mind.

It was about 9:00pm, Seattle time. Thirty eight thousand feet in the sky, the sun was just setting, and the light was reflected on the clouds. Beautiful.

Flying is something I can't do on my own. I can't flap my arms and take off into the sky. It requires the pilot, the plane and the air for lift. I have to give up control and just ride.

We dropped into the clouds as we started our approach into Seattle. The white cloud layer surrounded the airplane -- I couldn't see anything. I had no sense of distance, direction or obstacle. I just trusted the pilot, that he knew where he was going; the plane, that it would hold together; and the wind, that it wouldn't let us fall.

We came out of the upper layer of clouds, and I found that we were between cloud layers. I couldn't have predicted the wonder of being sandwiched between the upper white layer and the lower fluffy clouds. I still couldn't see the ground, but this place was great. I could have stayed here a while, just enjoying the view, but I wasn't in control of the situation.

We continued to drop in altitude through another layer of clouds. Finally, Seattle came into view. It was the best yet -- Seattle at night, perfectly clear, every building lighted for night. The Space Needle, the Downtown, the water -- it was unbelievable.

Our life in faith requires us to acknowledge the control of God. We rely on him, his son and his spirit to enable us to do what we could never do alone. When we do, we may not be able to see where we are going; we just have to trust. We come to a place of beauty and abundant life, lighted by God's grace.

Image: The mountains outside of Anchorage from the air as we flew over them. If you look closely, you might be able to see a glacier.