Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Dearest God,

Illness can change our perspective. The view I have when I am well differs at times from the one when I'm not.

When I'm feeling sick, my view can be cloudy, somewhat distorted. Like clouds that hide the sun, illness can block the beauty. My view can appear dark and gray, without color. If I give in to it, I can begin to believe that that is all there is. But if I can acknowledge that this is a temporary state of affairs (however long) I can remain with the truth that tells me the sun is shining above the cloud of my illness.

I remember flying to Texas one time. It was a rainy, cloudy, gray day. I could imagine that I would be bumping from cloud to cloud from Indiana to Texas. I dreaded the flight.

It was about half an hour into the flight when we broke through the clouds. I remember being stunned by the amazing beauty of blue skies, a few puffy white clouds and bright sunshine. I pressed my face into my small window and I took in every ounce of beauty that I could, all the way to Texas.

I learned a lesson that day. What appears to me on a sick and/or down day is not the whole picture. It is part of the picture, but the best part is what I don't see, yet I know is present.

I could have decided not to fly that gray, rainy day. I could have just said, forget it. But I didn't; I flew anyway. In fact when I saw the beauty behind the clouds, I soared for three hours. I prayed. I laughed at myself. I watched for pictures of you in the clouds. I studied the amazing color of blue in the skies. I imagined myself dancing with you among the white, billowy clouds. I looked below where the rainy clouds were coloring the picture for those below. I even prayed for them.

Each day you challenge me to see above my present condition. You raise my eyes to you where you show me incredible pictures of life in the light.

Thank you for gray, sick days because such things teach me to take the time to sit at your feet, to ask you questions, to listen for your answers, to hear the words of the Master. "Once upon a human time there was this girl who wanted to soar with angels, but she let her eyes drop to earth and she fell. Bruised and somewhat broken, she felt someone lifting her face back up. The angels were circling, waiting for her once again and the girl stood, smiling. Recovering from her temporary fall, she took his hand and before she knew it, a great and wondrous wind lifted her higher and higher and higher..."

Mighty and Powerful God,
sometimes I allow
my situation, condition
to give me a view
that is not altogether accurate.
I choose
to see
only in part
and I am disappointed.
My chin falls,
scraping upon the ground.
But in the quiet silence,
I hear a striking voice
calling out to me,
"Wanna play?"

I love you, Andrea