A little girl sleepily pulls up her fuzzy pajama pants, lagging being her dad who is hurriedly finding their next flight. Two women share texts and news of home as they charge their phones beside me. In four flights on this journey home, I'm feeling the bigness of our world, but also experiencing it's smallness in the individual people who I meet today - each with a unique story woven into our huge story of humanity.
A lot has happened while we were travelling these past few weeks. While we were flying over the pacific, grandma was in the operating room, and mom and dad were kindly sending me updates. Her metaphorical heart was in top notch condition, but her physical one needed a triple bypass. The surgery was successful, and I am looking forward to (careful) hugs soon. Grandpa has been spending these weeks getting back on his feet after a broken hip, and I'm hoping for a (short) walk together when I get back. During the week before I left, we were ferrying love notes between the two as they were in different hospitals, and I am sure my family has been kept quite busy coordinating visits these past few weeks.
A lot has happened in our global story too. We were pausing for coffee in the Brisbane city square when we saw a news ticker with headlines about a plane - MH17. At first, we assumed this must be some new information on the missing Malaysia Airlines flight from earlier this year, but slowly we realized that this was a new tragedy. At dinner after church on Sunday, I overheard a passionate discussion about supporting Israel vs supporting Hamas. I understand so little of the politics, but i can't help but wonder - what could possibly serve as a good reason to fire a rocket at another human being? Each of these global stories is a collection of individual stories - perhaps of a little girl in her pajamas in Gaza, who wonders where her dad is instead of sleepily following him through a bright and busy airport.
It seems that visiting the layer of our atmosphere above the clouds has turned me into a philosopher who writes blogs about complex tragedies without knowing any good solutions. But there is also something exceptionally hopeful about the golden sun dancing on clouds above the vast expanses of ocean and mountains. And maybe something even more hopeful in the sleepy eyes of a little girl in pajamas, who - despite the rush and stress around her in an unfamiliar airport - knows that everything will be alright.
No comments:
Post a Comment