Up, Up and Away

 

By Rebecca Spencer McCurdy

 

Not too many years ago, on a beautiful autumn evening, my husband and I had the chance to go on a hot air balloon ride. It was the first time either of us had done something like this and it was amazing! It was a spectacular evening and we could see forever. One of the things that struck me up there, as we floated above houses and fields, trees and ponds, was how really lovely and simple and peaceful the world look from that perspective. I didn’t ever want to come down.

 

The view from a hot air balloon is a great way to get “the big picture” of the world we live in, but it’s not a great way to see what’s really going on in the hearts and lives of those whose houses and cars we floated over. I may some days want to indulge in the illusion of peacefulness that comes from not getting too close to people’s lives and sorrows. It takes some courage to step out of the balloon basket and immerse ourselves in the suffering and fear of the people who are in a time of their lives when they really need our help.

 

I guess the point is that both perspectives are true… the world is a beautiful place. There is a loveliness to gliding silently above the earth, oblivious to the suffering below. But there is another, perhaps deeper, beauty to be found in allowing ourselves to be touched by others’ suffering and to having our feet planted firmly on the group where we can be in a position to lend a hand and to witness the courage and strength of those we’re committed to serving.

 

No one would ever choose terminal illness for themselves or for anyone they love, but the choice to make ourselves available to those facing this crisis is one some of us do feel called to make. And the choice is made easier by the fact that if we look closely, there really is something beautiful, even in the last season of life.