Oh, The Downward Fall

Have you ever thought of a person’s life as one who parachutes from an airplane? At birth so high up the child could not see the earth below before he was pushed. If he could have? Huh. Thus, he exited the plane – with the ripcord to his mother severed. He fell – neither understanding nor seeing at that time what loomed below… what wonders or dangers he’d discover. Thus, he started his downward descent to land somewhere in the soon-knowable future. Where would he land? Who was his father? Mother? Perhaps he knew, instinctively – during his descent – that his parachute wouldn’t open at such a high place. He would know his landing place several years later when his eyes… conscience… mind… and heart were fully opened to the world he landed… his culture… his heritage… his position and station in life… things all beyond his control… determined by his parents and their parents before them, going back how many generations?  

Yes, where would he land? What were the threats? Were there any? Would God’s favor or calamity ultimately befall him? He wouldn’t know – not for a while. An infant’s eyes are fixed on his mother’s beautiful face, not her clothing or the bling that she may or may not be wearing. Would his father be present to hold him… change him… correct him… teach him? So many unasked questions at that time… questions that he’d come to ask later. Thus, he continued his descent – ever downward – into the low-lying gray… then seeing the frigid snow of reality come closer and closer. “It’s time,” he thought, “Time to open my chute and learn my landing place.” Thus, he’d land.

Of course, when I landed, I learned that it wasn’t the winds aloft that carried me to my ultimate landing place… no, it was the hand of God and His Spirit that carried me all along… that’s what really matters, because life here is but a vapor… a wisp of cirrus… our final landing? Now, that’s a cirrus question.