It begins with the question that Davis, my 4 year old, asked me yesterday:
“Is air God?”
What would you say?
“Hmmmmmm,” say I.
(never one to shortchange a fantastic question).
I look down at my arms.
I ask my skin:
“Is that God, so lightly touching you?”
I look around my living room, admiring all the invisibility.
Is this room filled with God?
In my silence Davis poses a second thought.
“So when I talk, that’s God coming out.”
I refrain from jumping out of my skin with delight, refrain from clobbering him with a big fat “YES!”
I let my ‘yes’ be soft, silent, subtle….inviting more mystery layers to bubble up from his own place of knowing.
Keeping these thoughts close, I am intrigued to hear the weather forecast —
Our weekend travel plans are set to take us straight into a major storm warning — the remnants of a typhoon off Vancouver island.
No concern, because “air is God.”
Lots of air = lots of God.
I was primed for Storm.
As it would happen, I was also in the middle of writing a lesson for Parent like a Pirate class.
A lesson all about “dropping anchor” in the secret cove,
seizing treasure on the back roads,
finding Present Moment bliss by deliberately straying off course.
I love this God-of-the-air’s sense of humour.
Be careful what you preach!
So here I am stranded at the airport, rejected at the boarding gate because of my expired ID.
I suddenly face an extra 9 hours of roaming airports with my infant instead of cuddling up in Comox with my honey.
It was so hard to watch my husband get on that plane without me.
We get so little time alone together!
But, he had an appointment to catch; and I, apparently, had an adventure to take.
And so I began my wholehearted detour.
Wholehearted, because….(I have noticed), that’s where the magic portal (disguised as a setback) usually is.
“What’s God doing in my life?”
I never have to wonder this for very long, because I have this charming clause in my theology:
“May all your expectations be frustrated;
may all your plans be thwarted….”
(Abba’s Child by Brennan Manning)
I have found….
When things don’t go as I have planned — that’s when I am actually onto something…
I come careening into the present moment — anchor down.
All my senses rise to seek the hidden treasure that I didn’t plan for!
Another quote from my 4 year old, about a month ago:
“Do you think God just wanted to make up a story,
so he made us?
…….And why did God put himself in the story?”
(I do not theologize with my children. Nor do they attend Sunday school. They pull this stuff out of the ‘Air’ all by themselves)
The live musicians at the airport are singing my story line.
“Hope to see him sometime soon…”
“Hold onto what you love”
“Put your faith to the test”.
“Won’t you help me sing, this song of freedom…redemption song.”
A stranger walks past me, looks into my eyes and says, “cherish the moments.”
A Westjet attendant rocks Nolan to sleep for me.
I am granted enough minutes to write this blog.
I share smiles and words with approximately 32 random individuals and smear them with sunshine.
An auburn glow of sunset is bathing the tarmac.
Knowing that, in fact, the Magic is what I live.
I live it up, and I live it down.
It’s what’s on the inside of my eyes.
It’s how I see this world.
When life goes sideways, it’s just as good as forwards.
That this life is not about my convenience.
That when handed the opportunity to feel Guilt (for blowing 1/3 of our romantic weekend), I smile and say, no thanks.
“Guilt don’t live here.”
That I am really good at forgiving myself my mistakes.
To really know just how vehemently, forcibly, absolutely and adamantly I stand with the angels of optimism.
That my heart just goes Dragon-size when thwarted.
That baby Nolan and I could live for days on “milk and love,” as we say in our family.
There’s an awful lot of treasure off the beaten pond.
(The Present is kind to those who appreciate her ways)
But there’s been an even deeper purpose to it all.
The very, very short nutshell version is simply:
I would not have been who I needed to be for my husband this weekend without that 9 hour experience getting intimate with the Air in the airport.
Nine hours savouring the back roads and roundabouts changed my capacity from a small ‘b’ bliss weekend to a big ‘B’ Bliss weekend.
(coincidental that module 1 of the parent school I created is called “The Treasure Map to Parenting Bliss”? Don’t think so!)
Sometimes I think I was put on this earth to stand for this exact thing.
To hold open this particular gate — this invitation to Bliss.
To be ready to give a reason for this peace, this joy, that is mine.
This was my love affair at the airline terminal:
“Jesus, my breath and my beloved,
tumbling down the rabbit hole with you
is where I belong.
You are my Magic. You are my song.”
Q: Is air God?
A: What else would it be?