‘how are we going to get the plane down, Granna?’

I’ve been watching you for a few days now, outside my window.  Alone.

You just showed up one day.  Sprouting alone in the stone hard soil.  Blooming in your ray of sunshine yellow.

_dsc0242

I imagined your journey, from a tiny seed to the saliva of the bird’s mouth, too small to hold your power. Dropped. Forgotten. And as you buried yourself deep covered in faith, your tiny roots grew and so did your will.

_dsc0243

The wind blows.  It sounds like angels’ wings fluttering.  I hear a plane overhead. The hands on my watch remind me that my son and his wife, my other daughter is in flight above the clouds, coming home.

Just yesterday my grand baby boy, all of three and a half years saw this smoke filled road in the sky and ask, ‘How are we going to get the plane down, Granna?’

img_5035-2

I go and sit on the ground next to this lone flower.  The one that has given me so much joy over the past few days.  The one planted by God.

And my phone rings and the message says, ‘We’re home. Love you!’

And Kase’s question echos in my heart, ‘Granna, how are we going to get the plane down?’

It’s like this, sweet boy. We ask the same God who grew this tiny flower. Faith and prayers. That’s how we get the plane down.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s