"She had the window seat and I the middle as we flew west out of Denver on a sunny fall afternoon.
Clouds play among the peaks
While she plays on her laptop.
Rugged ranges roll across the landscape like waves
While the nine of hearts is slid across the screen.
Creation lies below us silently Its testimony bold but hushed
Glorious and enduring, vast and unconquered.
It need not boast
It is accustomed to being ignored.
Meanwhile technology captivates.
Yet another variation of solitaire
Provides sufficient entertainment for the mind
Grown accustomed to screen-sized views.
How small we are
Smaller than a single tree stretching across the forest floor below
But our world has made us smaller still
Pacified by so little while truly satisfied by nothing.
The deck shuffles again for another hand
While the ranges give way to the awaiting plains
Farms quilt the window
While more cards checker the screen.
Be not proud—o my heart—for seeing what others miss.
Be neither naïve to think I’ve never done the same:
Placated by some flashes on a screen
While the beauty of creation
Or the presence of person
Or the whisper of the Spirit Goes unnoticed.
But wait! She looks up She glances out
She shakes her head
In silent appreciation. She sees!
The laptop is closed The game disappears.
She continues to stare at the tapestry below.
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” I say.
“Yes. It is,” she replies with true admiration.
The nine of hearts has died
But a human heart has come alive
At least for the moment.
Technology will beckon once again
Its voice ubiquitous Its popularity ever rising.
But for the moment We both just watch and admire.
Something greater than entertainment is taking place: Worship."
(Written by Pastor John Stumbo,Salem, Oregon, Oct. 2010)