The storm rolls in, and with it, the walls of my world press in. Blinded by the flurries, I panic. To get stuck and be isolated--these are what drive me to hold tight, white-knuckled, ignoring the voice of logic in it's mad plea to cease. I flip on the hazards, as though I believe my distress will excuse my ignorance, I proceed. I grow tense. I go faster, blindly entering territories I am not qualified to navigate, I am out of control. I am thrown off the road in a skid, completely turned around. Buried. Deep.... Alone.
Perspective. Seeing your world, THE world through a different window..the window of a God elevated above the situation..watching, knowing, moving.
The perspective from above, flying high beneath the wings of an eagle...this perspective? Changes everything. Beautiful. Majestic. Peace-filled and calm. Everything in its place--the rivers the mountains--trees square around quaint communities.
These communities, surely bustling, many worlds feeling shaken, perhaps alone and invisible. But I see them. I am watching them as I wonder. Who lives there, and what is their story? Do they feel lost, as I?
Though their roads feel rocky, I see.... Everything in it's place just so. And dozens of boxes in view of one tiny window.... So when we feel alone?
Just know, that we are not.
