Sonic Boom

Sitting in my fifth grade classroom, assiduously working on the three r’s or some other trite, yet traditionally paramount lore, the retractable partition flew amuck rattling the heart and lungs of those sitting abaft. Catching breaths and chasing heartbeats, a dominant look of despair, from a more frequently friendly face, sent us spectators into a perplexed plight of peal, as the utterances of disaster seemingly plummeted from his lips like a pin-drawn grenade catapulted overboard.

“The Challenger…exploded! Blew up! Gone…forever!”  Understatedly, the former hearts sunk and lost breaths gasped; silence settled.

This reminiscent flashback of national turmoil simply cannot compare, let alone fathom, the unforgettable injustice experienced by the families of the seven astronauts lost that day.  And to think, I witnessed numerous assumingly beautiful and successful launches prior to this atrocity and thereafter. Yet this disastrous recollection, this single solitudinal space saunter, antithetically engrained my extremely young and impressionable mind forever.

Growing up chiliads of miles afar, never could I imagine a decade later being mere minutes from the scene of this tragedy, experiencing an absolute antipodal affair. Awestruck by the marvel of God’s artistic amusement, I stood immovable, embracing every encapsulating receptive impetus less than 50 miles away. To witness a vehicle capable of sustaining inconceivably nonsensical temperatures, traveling tens of thousands of miles per hour in order to reach hundreds of miles aloft, then plunging into almost 14 billion light years of dark & empty nothingness, of which a single light year is a mere 6 trillion or so miles long, simplistically stated, empyreal!

Having now experienced at least one of these awe-striking launches every year since, 16 years in the making, it never ceases to amaze me the wonderment of God’s creativity every time I, not only watch the shuttle launch from my front yard, but also feel & hear the rumble and rattle of the sonic boom as these crafts disappear into the realm of His unknown mysteries yet to be discovered.

And to think, mental faculties allowed this negative image of a disastrous incident to consume and override the multitude of other magnificent occurrences. The power of perspective and proportion distorted the reality and truth of the beauty of God’s Creativity!  You see, my perspective, ostensibly diminished and disproportionately viewed from a dioramic box of tubes and wires, concealed the marvel God bestows upon all mankind.  I had yet to fully experience the literal sensation of the heavens declaring the glory of God, nor had I seen the skies proclaim the work of His hands. (Ps 19:1)

Another simplistic need to personally encounter and experience God’s great and glorious gifts up close and personal, not through perspective human eyes and others’ proportional responses, but through God’s magnified love and jealousy for an attentiveness to Him and what He desires for a Child of the MOST HIGH!

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Birdsong

Somewhat reluctant, I manage to barely crack my fraught eyes, noticing still a diminished amount of light prevalent or shall I say not on a morn so disproportionate to the other multitude of days of the year, wheras ordinarily jarred to a rudiment state of consciousness by a stentorian, soporific blare amidst the pre-auroran darkness.

Unintentionally I register the previously forced unacknowledged time of day, further encase my life-bereft ball of flesh in the warmth of my counterpane, and then bind tightly my lids in a covetous lechery, yearning only to bask in just a few more miniscule moments of dormant slumber.

Simultaniously, contending to evade even the clamour of confined canine cacophony, I suddenly become cognezant of a seeminlgy slight secondary sound, not only melodic but symphonic in nature…literally in nature.  Not just in its characteristic essence, but in its natural state of being, its breath-taking beauty of its creation….yes, in CREATION itself!!!

And then, SMMAAACCCCKKKKK!!! It hits me! Right in the middle of this intellectual mind. And when I say intellectual, I mean very much, subjective and rational, which in divinity’s eyes translates to irrational.  Just as if, in a quick, spontaneous manner, a hand had flown through the air, whoooooshing as it cut the still air arround it, then connected forcefully with the smooth, round, rosy skin of my cheek.

Hmmm…quite direct and very much intentional. Yet, not at all wrongful?!? Awkwardless and refreshingly insightful? Maybe an awakening, per se?  Ah yes, MY awakening! My imperatively and inevitably immenent opportunity, not only capturing but certainly securing my assiduity!

So, I lie and listen…attentive…hearkening to each ariose note, making me all the more anticipatory of the revelation of a somewhat bewildering expectation. And then again it hits me…SPRING!!!! Can I believe my own eyes, or ears in this case?

In a flash, the memories of this multitudinous contata flood my concilliatory capacity. This fundamental indicator that spring truly has sprung! When the birds in flock rouse before you in the warmth and ardor of the emerging morning sun and provokingly chirp every last one of their little hearts’ desire out into the uncluttered immensity of royal clarity and all that it offers, every opportunity to expand and stretch, to ascend and soar, to the places unseen, unknown, and unimagined!

An awakening completely elluding a vastly differing tune from former days passed.  A whiny discordant ‘woe is me’ mentality, so impervious, so insurmountable, and seemingly impossible to eradicate from one’s soul (mind, will, & emotions). And well, quite candidly speaking, from life in its entirety. Oh, yes, I am whole-heartedly talking to myself, somehow though, knowingly speaking to all mankind.

Last night was a prime time example for me. Prior to entering my mundane somnolent monotony, I spoke openly, honestly, and sincerely with God. I was quite direct in my approach and not at all convivial, which somehow became more poignant saying it so resolutely, amost as if God was hearing it more acutely. Admittedly, I am truly fancied that He humors me in doing so.

Literally sitting up straight, I refused to lie down, and pronounced, “God, show Yourself REAL to me tonight in a way that is going to change my life forever! If it takes waking me to a dream, vision, or encounter, do it! I want to know You are working IN me and NOT just in the atmosphere AROUND me!” Acquiescently, a bit daunt, I then managed to lay my head to rest and drift off to a tranquil swoon.

No, God didn’t wake me up in a cold sweat, nor did He articulate Himself to me in audible words. He didn’t send Jesus or even an angel to pontificate. He didn’t even employ His avian creatures to orate me. However, He did use what He had, what already existed, exquisitely living and breathing His presence, all to show Himself undeniably in that moment to ME!

His creation…groaning for the Sons and Daughters to awaken and respond to His love, a conscious, discerning awareness of something so over-abundant, yet completely uncomprehensible through my own eyes!

Ahhh, ’twas my awakening…the simplistic need to necessitate Him in order to encounter Him, only to then enter the realm of creation, living gloriously and magnificently before Him, being made available as a revelation, as a manifestation, as an impartation, just as the birds were to me!

“A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song.” – Chinese Proverb

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