The Promise of a Blue Sky
I hear the engine of a small airplane and the sky is very blue.
Who knows how memory works.
This is among my earliest recollections. Somehow, I remember it outside my body – looking at my 4 year old self in the front yard of the first house I ever lived in.
From that moment until today, I associate the sound of a small aircraft with beautiful days.
I never wanted to be lazy. Never wanted to be undeserving. The calculus of effort and achievement is mysterious. Perhaps it is true that I lean to hard on effort and struggle to justify the grandness of my dreams.
I am not a Christian but there was a time when I quarreled with Jesus. On a cloudy day, a gnome-ish man handed me a flyer as rushed to my ride home.
“You are forgiven” was written over a picture of green Irish hills. I ignored my bus stop and walked home – wondering about the difference between earning something and having something gifted to you.
Change inhabited much of the last year. Change promises to stay close to me this year as well.
“How you do anything, is how you will do everything.” This notion haunts me and compels me to pursue integrity thoroughly. However, how – where – and to what – should I apply my energy?
There are questions of knowledge and there are questions of wisdom. These are wisdom questions.
Walking along a park in the Arizona desert, I hear a small plane again. Impressed with the staying power of the association: I smile.
I am not lost on my walk.
But neither am I precisely sure where I am going.
I am working hard out here in the desert. I know you are too.
May the gifts of the divine visit us both and bless our struggle to find places where we hear the promise of good things to come.
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