Susan LaffertyWe board a flight with passports in hand. Tickets to the far side of the sea.
No turning back now.
Seatbelts fasten. Engines roar. And this capsule we’re all sitting in hurtles forward then lifts.
Up. To and through the clouds.
Sun pours in.
I look down at the neat miniature houses, roads, fields, forests.
One last look.
Gates. I love a good gate.
Carefully carved and crafted.
Designed for beauty and strength.
Providing entry or denying access.
In the tapestry God weaves on this “go and make disciples” journey, threads don’t always come together like I imagine they will.
Unfinished. Conversations sometimes unraveling. Quiet dismissals.
And me, stumbling through. Weak.
Wondering if I’m saying it in a way they can understand.
