POSTED BY Kirgy January 4th, 2012 : 2 COMMENTS
[from my diary]
So I’m finally on my way to Kelowna. As I’m writing this I’m thirty-five thousand feet in the air travelling at five hundred and fourteen miles per hour [ground speed], cruising with a little, but some, turbulence, somewhere over the Norwegian Sea near Iceland.
Mother and I had to get up at 5:30am (GMT) to drive to Heathrow to make this flight. To be honest with you, I really didn’t want to go. I’ve had such a great time with Lucy that I just wanted to be with her, not four thousand miles away. Last night I could barely sleep, thinking of it all, and thinking about God and how unprepared I am today.
But at the same time, despite all these worries, fears and even hind-sighted regrets, I know this is where God wants me.
My heart was pounding and my palms sweating as the engines roared the plane up the runway. I don’t know who decided putting fuel, turbines, high speed, high altitude and masses of people together was a good idea.
It was the first turbulence, strangely, which brought me peace. As London flew away from me and the clouds rattled this hunk of metal, a glimmer, for just a few seconds, of a rainbow appeared outside the window next to me.
That’s when all this worrying about life, love and even fear of this rattling death trap become just white noise. I remembered God’s promise to Noah,
Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth. (Gen9:16 NIV)
Beyond the cry of the babies and my death-grip on Air Canada’s cramped chairs was this whisper of love, promise and remembrance that I am in covenant with the living God.
As I look out into the sea of cloud through this half closed window, I am in reverence of this God and His unending love for me.
I remembered you Steve as I passed the heights of Scotland; this really is the six-hour bliss. The moment of time where worry is yet to materialise of Canadian immigration or my twenty minutes I have now to change flights.
I remember Lord, when you answered my prayers so clearly that Sunday morning at Hope Church, calling me to your ministry, I remember that first acceptance of you in my life that Sunday evening in the run-down remains of the YMCA building. I do, Lord, also remember sitting in front of my computer, the cursor blinking in the response field of Ian Coffey’s email, when I prayed and you called me to Kelowna.
I have heard you God. I’m sorry for my persistent failures; when I worry without you, when I curse my family and neglect your Church. But I thank you for your everlasting majesty and commitment to every living thing.
Thank you for your rainbow Lord.