When I fly with Henry I take the middle seat. I like the window but I fit better. At 5’4″ and not a wide body I can pull my arms in if the other person needs more room. But there’s no view from the middle.
In those middle-aged years (I swear I don’t know where they went) we were running and rushed and life was buzzing and keeping up was a little like being in the middle seat on a plane: the view wasn’t clear.
I was thinking of the Sunday school song about Zacchaeus , a man short of stature and character until he got a closer view of Jesus. It changed his life.
You just don’t see as clearly when you’re stuck in the middle. But on the outside, we see the fingerprints of God on the times we thought we were alone. From a distance we can take more in. More of God’s grace and mercy. More of the blessings and more of the love. We realize that even in the times we felt sandwiched in the middle there was goodness in our lives.
Linking up with Kate Motaung for a weekly free-writing word prompt called Five-Minute Friday.