June 13, 2016

This is NASA’s picture not mine, but I felt this far away from home yesterday. Earth seemed like a place foreign to me as I waited for my flight home and news of tragedy, conceived and implemented by an individual bent on destruction, plagued the hearts of families and friends whose lives will never be the same.

We boarded our flight, taxied to the runway and were ready for take-off when word came over the intercom that our flight was grounded. We taxied back to the airport and filed from the plane to await word regarding our flight.

The wait wasn’t long when measured in seconds, but measured in loss—forever, and soon we were shuffling somber and spent back onto the plane for our second chance. The thought crossed my mind about the opportunity and change with second chance. The whole process of reloading seemed like dejavu as I met the same staff as if for the first time, but felt the tug of familiarity. I filed to my seat to be the second to arrive rather than the first as it was in the first episode.

I arrived to ride in my same seat with the same individuals, but the time was different, the temperature of the plane was cooler, the arc of the sun through the window was higher and the shadows seemed darker. The subtle variation of things changed colored the entire flight.

I’m home now and a walk through my garden this morning has my thoughts on the prayers that went up yesterday for change.

We can each contribute: the scientists who seek answers to how brains develop to prevent behaviors that lead to tragedy, the writers and artists who challenge the status quo to push the doors of compassion, the spiritual leaders who foster love not hate, the teachers who mentor by being a good example, and the gardeners who practice daily their own growth before tending the growth of others; these are the contributions that give promise to prayer.

Don’t wait for a second chance.