Having a bird’s-eye view for a moment

The time when I most felt the humble awe and joyful wonder was when I was high above the open waters, parasailing with my husband. The only thing that kept us from floating away entirely was the tug of the towline. It stretched down to the boat that kept getting smaller and smaller as we got higher and higher.

The experience reminded me of how small I am compared to the vastness of the creation. Breathtaking. I barely had words to describe how awesome and majestic the beauty was in front of me. I felt like I could echo the same message Apollo 8 gave on 1968 Christmas Eve: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…” But all I could muster that time was, “Praise the Lord.”

Being suspended in the air with my life literally on a line, trusting the ingenuity of engineering, the experience made me feel insignificant and confronted me with my mortality. I realized that I am no match for the strength of the wind around me or the formidable depth of the ocean below me. Even the daily cares that easily occupy my thoughts dissipated; they no longer matter as the arms of the invisible force cradled me into a hush, silenced me into awe.

I was like Job, speechless, while listening to God speak in Job 38-42.

And like Job, there’s only wonder left in me; a kind of contentment where I do not need all the answers, only trust. Having a bird’s-eye view for a moment showed me that the same God who commands the wind and seas was holding me.

When the boat finally reeled us back in, and my feet finally touched the decl, I carried that awe and silence with me. I felt changed. I had this sense of warmth telling me that being small isn’t the same as being insignificant. I am part of something far greater than myself, and that changes everything.