Sleeping on Clouds

Written by Steve Eckberg

Other than the unparalleled opportunity to encounter new germs and viruses in such close proximity, there is one really great thing about travel. It gives God such a convenient way to put new people into my life.

I’ve found that the variety and richness of these interpersonal encounters is powerful evidence for God’s hand at work around me. A month ago, I spent 45 minutes talking to a man and his wife about how they dedicated their retirement to helping terminal cancer patients after he had been miraculously cured four years prior. A week later, I talked philosophy with a recent college graduate who double majored in business and philosophy. We laughed about him opening a wildly successful business that nobody understood. Two weeks ago, I spent some quality time on the plane talking to an elderly woman about apologetics and high heeled shoes. This week, however, I was presented with my greatest challenge yet.

Even from the very first minute we spoke, it was clear that Elsie had a lightening-quick mind. That, combined with a naturally unbounded curiosity, made our encounter one that required me to be at my absolute sharpest.

photo by Woodvines

It would be a mistake to underestimate Elsie on the basis of either her radiant smile or her unassuming stature. I can only imagine the number of intellectuals that have been drawn into discussion with her only to find out when it was too late, that they had been outwitted and were reduced to stuttering as she smiled at their all too obvious discomfort. Being a clever and insightful five-year-old has its advantages in a match of wits.

I learned that Elsie was traveling with her mother and 18-month-old brother to visit family in Atlanta as they squeezed into the window and center seats of my row. Based on her brother’s astounding 6:30 a.m. energy, I concluded that he had just enjoyed a large cup of coffee and a chocolate candy bar for breakfast. Elsie’s mother was clearly going to be fully occupied with her brother for the duration of the flight. If I was going to engage with anyone, it was going to have to be with the friendly and bright-eyed Elsie.

The flight was fully booked, and the center aisle was a bustling parade of people and baggage of all shapes and sizes. Between the congestion of boarding passengers and the unexplainable decision to turn off the cabin ventilation while everyone was at their highest level of stress, the comfort level on the plane was rapidly deteriorating. Then I just couldn’t help laughing out loud when Elsie, upon being buckled into her seat, exclaimed to her mother, “Oh oh, I’m going to need to go potty.”

Elsie looked over at me and decided that my laugh was genuine and not an indictment. She smiled when I suggested that there would be a time just before they buttoned up the plane, when the aisle would clear up enough for her and her mother to sneak back to the restroom without being tackled by a flight attendant.

Once relieved of the stress of having to use the restroom, Elsie made herself comfortable, asking every possible question related to the plane or to travel…or to the weather, or the other people on the plane, or the surprise treats that her mother brought, or to her electronic game, or to Einstein’s theory of relativity. She had a seemingly endless supply of questions. If a response did not come quickly enough, she would simply jump to the next question. Any answer to any question was followed by a string of at least three “whys.” Elsie’s mother was valiantly attempting to keep up with her daughter’s questions while simultaneously engaged in a wrestling match with her brother.

As I watched this drama unfold, I could see that Elsie’s questions were getting tougher and were coming faster and faster. It was only a matter of time before critical mass would be achieved and some link in this chain would snap. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but in hindsight, I have to recognize that Elsie’s mother was no amateur in this game. It was just getting exciting to be an observer, when Elsie’s mother turned to me and repeated her daughter’s question: “Is this computer game considered an electronic device?”

Coming into the game cold, I froze for a second or two before answering that, yes, it probably was. Elsie then shifted her attention to me and asked why she needed to turn it off. The smile on Elsie’s mother’s face said; That will teach you. This is not a spectator sport. You need to be involved.

I stumbled through an explanation of radio signal interference and realized, too late, that I was close to eliciting an image of the plane diving to the earth in flames. Fortunately, Elsie had already moved on. The plane bumped a bit as it ascended through cloud cover. Elsie was alternately looking out the window and glancing back at me to ensure that I was still at her beck-and-call. The natural question for a child in this situation, of course, is about how the plane flies. Because it has wings is a totally incomplete and unresponsive answer to a child like Elsie. Observations about the speed of the plane and the fact that the wings don’t move like a bird were interspersed with the inevitable series of whys.

This isn’t where the conversation ended, but it is a good place to step back and reflect. I really thought a lot about Elsie and her questions for quite a while after the flight was over. What made the Elsie encounter so compelling was how it paralleled in so many ways my relationship with God.

I’m simply bursting with questions for him, especially why. Frequently, I don’t even wait for the answer. Most times I wouldn’t understand the answer anyway. But God is patient with me. He listens, even if I don’t give him the opportunity to answer. Sometimes, I’m pretty sure that he smiles.

Well, Elsie was getting pretty tired by the time I began working my way into Bernoulli’s equation and the lift associated with pressure differential across the wings of the plane. So she showed me another perspective that I later considered. Jesus spoke frequently about children, and about coming to him as a child does. Before closing her eyes, Elsie took a deep breath and said, “I just want to sleep on clouds.”

Me too, I thought. All these questions for God, and all I really want is to sleep on clouds.