Flying 35,000 feet over the Rockies at dawn, corduroy rows of cloud extend in orderly streets below. Mists cling to jutting mountain peaks, forcing wind aside into tumbling turbulence. That hurly–burly air torments us lower-altitude pilots. But up here, sipping coffee under cobalt sky, the shredded clouds below offer only artistic distraction. No thrashing about, fighting for control, banging head against window, or smacking cabin overhead. Clearly, it’s better up high—smooth and easy to take the long view of life.

Life? That’s the rub. God sends us to people. And they live in the tangled canyons below. A safe landing down there demands concentration. We configure the aircraft, then adjust power, pitch, and rudder to arrive at our chosen touchdown spot on the airstrip. The closer we approach, the tougher it gets. The last few feet allow no error.

High ideals say life ought to stretch out smooth, clean, and simple. But real life gets messy up close, slapping the unwary off course. A harsh word breaks a marriage. A forgotten promise alienates a child. A debate splits a church. It seems like nothing works. Is life so impossible? Most certainly. Fortunately, we don’t navigate the badlands on our own. The same One who walked on water makes every rough place plain.

So, what happened the last time you stumbled upon Jesus’ footprints in the wilderness?

Psalm 119:140; Matthew 25:34-45; Proverbs 15:1;
John 6:16-21; John 16:33