To: Brian From: Austin

Overcast is a current theme of Indiana. If the Hoosier state has a constant, that constant would be highways, corn, and an overcastting chorus of grey shadowy skies. Today my drive to the airport was just that.

I was once asked if God ever speaks to me. If God communicates to his people, when, where, and how does he do it? A question that is worth examining. I believe that there are people, biblical experiences mainly, that have experienced the voice of God, that audible boom that is the voice of God Himself. I, however, have not been so fortunate. It is my belief that God has, will, and will continue to talk to people in an audible voices. (Maybe different voices? If I were God I’d totally be messing with people.) However, in His word He asks us to be men and women of faith. Skills are acquired, not given. I believe faith is a skill. And for God to ‘straight up’ speak to a person, there would be no process of skill building, therefore robbing the faith-building experiences that God has planned out for you in your life. Does God speak to His people? I can’t speak for people. But God speaks to me. He speaks through people, places, people in places, and things. But (for me) more directly through experiences.

I’ve been on many planes. I’ve been lucky enough to have the chance to perform/minister in many different places. One thing I always forget on my frequent rides upon this potential sarcophagus of death, is that in my ascent, the thing that awaits me. The naked sky, miles above the earth. Today on my way up through the turbulent clouds of Indiana it was shaky, it was depressing. The rain was drip dropping its way all over the window and its humid mustiness was leaking through the cabin. (Hopefully I’ve captured the scene well enough.) Although the ascent seemed turbulent, the constant that appears as a theme in Indiana is not a constant at all. The clouds are an illusion, a diversion rather. Those clouds are hiding the constant that’s behind them. The real constant that our sky contains is a warm, billowy blue. A brilliant brightness for clear miles and miles. Just as our lives seem, at times, to have a constant of foreboding and shadowy discomfort, what lies beyond the turbulence lies a peace and a warm billowy brightness. God spoke to me today. Amongst the different people, places, and things. Amongst the families returning home, the business men, college athletes, pop cans, doggie bags, laptops, and crying adolescent children, God chose to tell me that things are always different than what they appear. I challenge you to start looking for God in the little things. A blue sky awaits you, dawg.

Psalm 23:4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff; they comfort me.