As always happens when I fly, peering downward at the tiny dots of houses and trees; noting the rise and fall of the land below and the snakelike winding of rivers and creeks; seeing the perfectly delineated boundaries of fields and golf courses; I am reminded of the scripture, "Who is man that You are mindful of him?"
I am struck by my minuteness in the world as I stare out of my porthole on the world from 29,000 feet.
But our God sees the whole earth in its entirety, north to south, east to west. It's all within His view from the rising of the sun to it's setting. The thought that He would know my name, much less concern Himself with the tiniest details of my life is utterly preposterous. But mystery of mysteries and miracle of miracles, it is true.
Paradoxically, as I think back over the events of the last two and a half years and, in fact my very reason for being in an airplane on this occasion, it is impossible given my minuteness that the events of my life would have transpired as they have if it weren't for the very hand of God.
How do two tiny specks of a particular man and woman in rural North Carolina become the parents of an even tinier speck of humanity born a world away in Eastern Africa?
Papers? Documents? Governments? Solely? Impossible.
From my heavenly perspective this day, I reflect on the mighty work God did to bring Malachi into our lives. I am humbled by the mighty work God is doing to bring us Zach.
But His work in our hearts and lives didn't stop at those things.
This day, I am flying, not to the far side of the world to meet a son handpicked by God, but to the big city to meet a friend handpicked by Him. A farm girl from Illinois and this bumpkin from NC - two hearts knit together on the other side of the world so many months ago.
Thank you sweet Jesus that You hear our hearts, see our faces, and know our names. Thank you for the sweet gift of friendship.
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