One morning I noticed planes flying in low circles above the park, waiting to land across the river in Philadelphia. I hadn’t noticed planes over the park before, but this day every time I looked up there was another one hanging in the sky, until a signal from the ground released it from its holding pattern. I watched as they floated there, the dangling mobile of metaphors for my life.
How many times have I suspended myself in mid-air for someone, something “out there” to give me the thumbs up before I could move? How many circles above a foggy destination have I made, insisting I know the conditions before I land? How much time squandered before I could come to rest in a firm place?
I end up in limbo when I measure myself against some standard I don’t even embrace. Something in me knows what is good and true, but I keep checking the atmospheric pressure instead of God’s well-defined flight plan. When I try to make my life fit into a mold that God didn’t created for me, I never land on the road He has.
I want to claim the abundant life Jesus died to give me. I will do today, and in this moment, what God has set before me. When I make the journey about Him, I can trust to arrive at the next stop with my bags and itinerary waiting.
And whatever you do in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him. Colossians 3:17
Meeting God at the Park 