From way up there, the fields look perfectly square, the roads have the smoothest pavement, the houses are symmetrical, and vehicles are clean. From thousands of feet in the air, the world below looks like it’s exactly as it should be.
The most remarkable sight from the airplane though, is the clouds. White, large, and fluffy. Looking out the circular window, I imagine I could hop from one cloud to another, utterly weightless. And I could grab a handful of that white cloud, stick it in my mouth as it crystallizes and melts into my saliva like cotton candy. When I look down on the clouds, they look large and still. From the top, the clouds look like they don’t float or easily change shape. They simply are.
When I’m in an airplane, I see a piece of heaven.
We all yearn for that, the feeling that everything is as it should be. When we catch a glimpse of it, we strive to do anything to keep it from slipping through our fingers. But it does, eventually. Because life is never exactly as it should be. Not yet anyway.
From the airplane, I can’t see the bugs destroying the crop or the pot hole in the road. From the airplane, I can’t see the paint chipping off the house or the dent in the bumper of the car. But I know they exist.
From the airplane, you can’t see me roll my eyes. From the airplane, you can’t see my impatience, my negative thoughts, or my envy. From the airplane, everything looks like heaven. I’m not perfect. I untag myself in pictures that make me look like I have a double chin. I use Nair on my upper lip hair. I curl my eyelashes. I paint the skin around my toenails to make my toe nails look bigger than they are. It’s all a facade. And I’m not alone.
Because we want things to be as they should be. But they’re not. Wrinkles, freckles, bald spots, cankles, muffin tops…they remind us that this is life. Life changes and it’s not perfect. And not perfect is exactly as it should be.
Someday, things will be perfect. Someday, restoration and renewal will spring forth and new things will be made. But not yet.