“Bless them.” Suddenly, my whole heart opened for this 20-mile section of Connecticut that I saw below me, and I marveled at the diversity of lives beneath me, while fervently praying that God would keep them all close to His burning heart.
I prayed the first decade of the Rosary during ascent, despite the fact that my seatmate looked wild-eyed when I pulled out the beads, worried eyes flickering to me, clearly wondering if the flight was in some sort of trouble, what with me dragging out the big guns.
As I looked down over those houses and businesses, I was once again given access to that grace of childhood—the ability to realize that no one is truly alone—that loneliness is a trap of the enemy, and that always somewhere, somehow, there is someone praying for you. Even if they’re doing it on a glow in the dark Rosary given to them by a stripper from 10,000 feet up.
Cari Donaldsonis the author ofPope Awesome and Other Stories: How I Found God, Had Kids, and Lived to Tell the Tale. She married her high school sweetheart, had six children with him, and now spends her days homeschooling, writing, and figuring out how to stay one step ahead of her child army. She blogs about faith and family life at clan-donaldson.com.