Today is Easter, a quiet and reflective Sunday afternoon. I try to guard my mind from the ever daunting amount of tasks that need to be done. The 8 inches of snow that have and continue to fall make that an easier task today as there is little else I can do. This morning we got up early to attend a sunrise service on the Bay of Fundy; thankfully there was room enough inside to protect us from the spring storm. The wind and pounding waves outside were a good reminder of the peace and security we have because of Easter, despite the storms that continue to batter our lives. This was especially real as our host just recently lost his wife to cancer. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity, beginning with an awesome time with Mary Ann’s (and mine) three friends from Lacombe, a quit trip to Alberta, spending time with Ashley and Tyler – awesome, a wedding, time spent with extended family, an overnight flight back home and back to all the unfinished tasks that persistently beckon me.
Every time I fly two thoughts generally occupy my thoughts. First, I am always so fascinated that the massive structure of steel and metal, that I am sitting in, flies. Think about it: You take this enormous “tin can”, add tonnes of “live weight”, adjust some flaps on the metal wings which happen to filled with explosive fluid, thrust it forward in a relatively short span, and “vala” it leaves the ground and flies. An incredible feat of technology and science which man has merged together over time to create something which today has become the norm. Flying is still one of humanities greatest accomplishments. It’s become a marvel that is so common place that it is rarely appreciated, until something goes awry.
The second thought that always preoccupies my thoughts is how quickly objects become minute and insignificant. People become invisible, cars become specks, villages dots, and towns and cities quickly become objects of an identification guessing game. The question from Psalm 8 rings in my ear: “What is man that you are mindful of him and the son of man that you care for him?” I find myself so fascinated that each speck, each car, each house, is filled with someone who has a story. Someone who has cares, concerns and experiences that are very real and important to them. A story or journey being created and lived out in each individual as I fly over unbeknownst to all but the careful observer who happens to glance upward.
In a matter of minutes two completely opposed views of humanity occur; the significance and the insignificance. For most of our lives we are the unassuming specks trying to eke out an existence, yet we think that God should be at our beck and call – each of us thinking that my needs, my wants, my comforts should be at the foremost of God’s attention. What is more fascinating that God even cares. Doesn’t Easter bring out this same contrasting view, displaying God’s incredible love and value for an insignificant spec, such as you and I?
Happy Easter – Never stop marveling!
HJK
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