Once high above the earth,
I sat in an airplane, terrified,
Overwhelmed by the magnificence of God.
Is this vast expanse merely the distant threshold of His throne?
For He declares:
“The heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool.”
Mouth agape, I watched as clouds gathered,
Brushed beneath the plane’s wings
A sea of soft, shifting wonder.
They called to me in their translucent beauty,
So close, I felt I could scoop them
With an ice cream spoon.
Faces formed in the mist
Did you see them too?
Majestic, nameless creatures moved among them,
Whispers of glory in the sky.
Then I felt them:
His Majesty’s angels,
Holding, guiding, steadying,
Carrying us through the heavens.
If only man’s eyes were open to see!
What soul, having beheld such wonders,
Could dare deny His existence?
Indeed, such a man is lost,
Marked for an eternity of ruin.
And what better time to pray
Than when suspended in the sky
Between earth and heaven,
Between fleeting breath and eternity?
Oh, how I longed to scoop a cloud
Just a sliver, a soft slice of heaven,
To tuck into my pocket,
A keepsake of His glory.
Oh, that I might be caught up in His splendor,
Lifted even far beyond the skies,
To behold His wonders
Evermore.
I am thirsty
Not for water, but for You,
To drink deep of Your glory,
To be lost in Your wonders
Evermore.
