The student pilot stared at the compass. Alternate foot taps on right and left rudder pedals kept the assigned heading in place. “Got it!” he congratulated himself.

“Watch your altitude,” the instructor admonished.

Altitude? The student’s brow tightened—200 feet low and descending. He eased the wheel back, remembering pressure rather than gross movement.

“Let’s keep an eye on the heading,” the instructor reminded.

Heading? The unnoticed left turn had already taken them thirty degrees off course.

The instructor comforted, “Don’t worry, you’ll learn. You can’t see most of what’s happening now.”

Indeed. In the mountains below, hidden birds flew, hunting secret food—unsuspecting worm and quivering rabbit. Trees sprouted, grew, died, and fell before no human audience. The air around him migrated a slow circle about the invisible low-pressure center, which, in turn, yielded to the Coriolis force of the spinning Earth. Above him radiation from unnamed stars smashed into high-flying oxygen molecules, scattering atomic debris over deserts, ridges, and valleys, untouched by shod-foot for a thousand years. And those stars, along with our sun, orbited the Milky Way galaxy’s center every 220 million years or so.

We believe that our perception encompasses all the important parts of reality, yet the truth is most of creation carries on without our permission, knowledge, or imagination. As Jesus said, “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”

So, what happened the last time the Lord flabbergasted you with how far He reached, how long He pursued, and how deeply He delved—all on your behalf and all completely unknown to you?

Job 38:1-41; 1 Corinthians 2:6-16; John 3:8