Above the clouds.

I don’t remember the first time I rode on an airplane, but I remember when flying was exciting, an adventure within my grasp. In particular, I remember a flight leaving Newark Airport under black clouds. When it was our turn, the engines roared, the plane lurched forward, and raindrops slid sideways across my window like wayward tears. Soon we were lost in the dark clouds, and I couldn’t see a thing. After what felt like hours, we cleared the clouds and witnessed the brightest day imaginable.

As I peered at the tops of the clouds. looking for people jumping from one to the other because that’s where I thought heaven was located, I marveled at the contrast between the world below the clouds and the one above. How could the two be part of the same day?

I have remembered that flight often, particularly when the dark clouds of another sort arrive. When rain pelts and tears flow, sometimes sideways, it’s easy to focus only on the darkness and rain, to think what you see is all there is to the day. But what I learned on that flight, and many times since, is that a brightness awaits above, on the other side of the clouds.

The challenge is not only remembering this, but also making the journey through the clouds. They seem darker up close, and, as we travel through, it seems to take forever. We become blind, doubting whether there’s a brighter day above, until we clear the clouds and look in wonder at the brightness surrounding us. Such an arrival causes us to celebrate and give thanks . . . until we find ourselves on the other side of the clouds again wondering all over again if this is all there is!

Someday, we’ll make it through and be able to stay, but, for now, we need to learn the lesson over and over again.