I really wanted to honk.The light was green and the SUV in front of me was not moving. The driver must be texting. I was late for an appointment and my blood pressure was rising. I decided to ever so gently tap-tap the horn, but as I did so a jarring honk blasted forth. And that’s when I saw the wheelchair. An elderly man was trying to cross the intersection and was struggling with the slushy road. I took a deep and shamed breath.
The scope of my vision is limited and prone to unexamined assumptions.
My husband loves drones and usually has one that is sitting on his desk. Whenever I pass by and see it, I am reminded that God’s perspective is all encompassing. The psalmist asks, “Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
My help comes from the flyer of the drone who reminds me to breathe deeply and keep my hand off the horn.
1 I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
3 He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The Lord watches over you—
the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
7 The Lord will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.