I breathed deeply as I looked ahead. I stared out a glass pane in front of me, transfixed by our speed of ascent; the ships in port grew smaller and smaller. The ground began to shake beneath my feet as we rose. Inches of metal beneath my feet separated me from death.
As I went to the top of the Space Needle in Seattle, I found myself reliving my hatred of suspended heights. How could the workers in it and the rest be so oblivious to how the observation deck swayed at the top? Of course it was constructed with safety in mind and sound engineering principles, but being 500 feet from land still does not allow the amount I am convinced in my mind to transcend into my stomach. But then I remembered that just the day before I sat inches from the window of the airplane at a height of 40,000 feet and temperature of -80 F! A break in that glass and a giant pressure vacuum ensues, temperature plummet in the cabin, Oxygen becomes scarce, and a life threatening situation is imminent. Yet this caused me the least concen.
The fact is this: every single day we live, we are given the breath of God. Greek mythologies devised their own philosophy to comprehend this phenomenon. They created three muses: one drew out the cord of life, the second measured it, and the third cut it. Christ asked his followers, “And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” (Matt 6:27). We are to live to God as best we can. Somewhere above, the days of our lives are measured out. We may have the security of the ground beneath our feet or be only inches from death, but neither the danger of the one nor the safety of the other is any final guarantee; God will take us when he takes us. By knowing God, we may know our fraility, but by knowing that and knowing God, we may rest content more than the workers on the top of the towers who trust in man’s strength, having an eternal assurance.

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