“Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.” Colossians 3:2

I had had a day. One of those long, stressful days where, by the time work was over, I had a whole list of complaints ready for God. And apparently, He had a visual aid ready for me.

I was picking up my son from work when a storm brewed up hot and fast. The sky changed almost without warning. While I was focused on a huge lightning strike, something else caught my attention.

A small-engine plane suddenly ducked incredibly low over us.

Living near the airport, low-flying planes don’t usually bother me. I’m used to them. But this one was low, low. I mean real low.
Low enough that I could see people inside.

Then I watched the pilot make a slight rolling turn to avoid clipping the light pole right there at the traffic light.

For a moment, my heart was probably somewhere near my red glasses.

But then I watched what happened next.With incredible precision, the pilot aimed the plane upward toward the one patch of blue sky still visible. Up. The storm was raging around them, so they went up. They couldn’t stop the lightning. They couldn’t calm the wind. They couldn’t move the clouds. But they could change their position in relation to the storm.

And standing there watching them climb, suddenly all the things I had spent the day complaining about seemed different. I had been staring at my storm. God reminded me to look up.

Sometimes faith doesn’t mean God immediately removes what’s happening around us. Sometimes He gives us the wisdom, strength, and grace to rise above what is trying to consume us. The clouds may still be there. The wind may still be blowing.
The lightning may still be flashing.

But there can still be a patch of blue somewhere above it all. And maybe that’s why Scripture keeps calling our attention upward. “Set your minds on things above…”
Not because what happens down here doesn’t matter. Not because the storm isn’t real. But because if all I see is the storm, I can forget the One who sits above it.

And suddenly I had to laugh at myself.
I’d spent the day complaining about everybody who had gotten on my nerves, only to end the evening throwing my hands toward heaven.

“Lord, forgive me for my stresspasses, as I forgive those who stress-pass against me.” 

(Nope you won’t find that in the King James version. Just in  the book of Chelle’s Confessions .)

Because sometimes the people don’t change. The circumstances don’t change. The storm doesn’t even change. We change altitude.

Tonight, I watched a pilot find the patch of blue. And God reminded me to do the same.

Father, forgive me for the moments when I become so focused on what’s happening around me that I forget to look toward You. When frustration gets loud, help me go higher. When circumstances feel dangerously close, give me wisdom to navigate them. When I can’t change the storm, change my perspective. And when I find myself counting everybody else’s stresspasses, remind me of how much grace You have extended to me.

Help me find the patch of blue.

Amen.
Love, Chelle
defygravitywithoutwings.com