In the neighborhood I previously lived in, there was a big summer picnic each year. And at that picnic, there were always prizes and giveaways and tons of food. One particular summer, my mom happened to be visiting at the time of the annual picnic and attended with me and my children. My oldest son, Matt, decided he would put Mom's name in the drawing for a rather unusual prize ... a ride for two in a hot air balloon. And yes, you guessed it, she won the ride. Mom was in her 70s at the time, and I just assumed that she would laugh it off and the prize would go to someone else. Much to my surprise, however, she announced that she had always wanted to ride in a balloon, and a couple of weeks later, I found myself at an airfield watching my 72-year-old mother and 12-year-old son climb into a balloon and slowly rise into the air and embark on a very special journey together.
The memory of Mom and Matt and their sky adventure came flooding back to me a couple of nights ago as I was on the last leg of my nightly walk. I had my headphones in, and as usual, was a bit oblivious to my surroundings when I heard what I initially thought was thunder though there wasn't a cloud in the sky. I kept walking, hearing the sound again, and wondering what in the world it could be. Exiting my land of oblivion, I noticed the trail was suddenly filled with people pointing in the direction behind me. I stopped walking and turned around and directly behind me landing in the field was a beautiful multicolored hot air balloon ... close enough to me that I could almost touch it.
I stood for several minutes watching as the folks in charge of the massive billowing creature went about their tasks as they helped their passengers out of the basket and began the process of deflating the balloon. And I wasn't the only person gazing upon the sight in wonderment ... not only was the trail filled with people, but cars had stopped all along the road as well. Guess there is something about a hot air balloon landing in a field between a walking path and a road that simply garners people's attention.
When I finally headed for home, one overriding thought kept pounding in my brain ... that balloon was close enough to me that I could almost touch it ... and I was so focused on accomplishing my appointed task that I almost missed it ... one of those memory-making experiences, and I was so wrapped up in "my thing" that I almost missed it altogether. Even two days later, I can't help but think about that event and the meaning behind it ... yet another God lesson for me on my beloved walking trail.
I wonder how many times I'm so focused on me that I miss something glorious that God puts right in front of me (or behind me, as the case may be) ... something huge and beautiful and spectacular that He so desperately wants me to see, to pay attention to, to stop and gaze upon. How many times do I just put my head down and keep on walking my own path, too busy or too worried or too hurried or too tired to take the time to turn around and look ... just look ... at what He is trying to show me. I also can't help but wonder how many times I'm the balloon ... drifting in the wrong direction, landing in an undesignated spot, ignoring the direction and guidance of my Captain, my Navigator, my ultimate Compass.
Slow me down, Lord, slow me down and make me look at the wonders you set before and behind me. Control the winds of my life, and keep me flying with You.
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