The timing of our Czech Republic mission allowed us a rare experience: being 35,000 feet over the United States on the evening of the Fourth of July.
At first, I had guesstimated that we’d be too early and too far north that night to see fireworks.
As the sun set a couple hours out of Chicago, I opened the window and glanced down, and my breath caught. Pinprick flares of multicolored light were visible against the dark land in every direction, as far as the eye could see, intensifying around a small town just to the south. I alerted the others and we stared out with delight. After consulting the onboard computers, we realized that the town to the south could only be Albany, NY. We were seeing the Fourth from the air after all!
Then we looked ahead of us and beheld a massive web of light terminating along a solid line: a coastal city. It was Boston. Where it all began. The tea party, the Boston Massacre, the first clashes at Lexington and Concord. The city obviously knew its history that night (or they were celebrating because I was leaving). The town was ablaze with tiny flashes of light like a Star Wars space battle. And as we flew over the coastline, still more fireworks: cruise ships off the coast were throwing their own displays. It was a sight I’ll not soon forget.
I must confess. Over the years, I’ve grown a bit cynical about the whole America deal.
I was reading through Romans from the beginning while I was in the Czech Republic. The first thing I ran into? An apostle Paul who very much shares my mind on the desire for a harvest.
It seems that God had one more lesson planned in this series, one I did not originally plan.
Every once in a while, on a pizza run, I’ll catch a glimpse of a future that worries me.
Being a pizza delivery guy can make you judgmental in a hurry.
Garn. I hate it when God saunters along and slaps the “sin” label on some innocuous thing I do every day.
One of the fun parts of my second job (pizza delivery) is that you never know where the good tips will come from.
So I traipsed merrily into my evening job (pizza delivery) one evening a few months ago, expecting a night of the usual bizarro shenanigans, and stopped dead in my tracks.