Karl and I and four dear friends just spent the weekend in Steamboat Springs. One of the reasons we chose this weekend was because there was a Balloon Rodeo scheduled. While I’ve always wanted to go to a balloon festival, it hadn’t ever worked out before. Until Saturday morning, I’d only seen a few individual hot air balloons, and I’d never seen a group of them together. Saturday and Sunday morning then, were a gift.
There’s something innocent and playful about hot air balloons. Bright colors and whimsical decorations adorn them as they dance in the sky. We had a view of the launch site and could watch as each balloon slowly filled with air and began to take shape. It seemed to take a long time to wait, then all of a sudden one then another jumped into the sky and were airborne. On both mornings, there was absolutely no wind, so the balloons stayed almost directly over their launch site. Most would rise and fall and drift, then land where they took off from. A couple of balloons did manage to catch a breeze and disappear from our view. Later in the day yesterday we were able to talk to one of the pilots. He affirmed what we’d guessed: the balloonist has control only over altitude, not where the balloon goes.
That got me thinking. When someone climbs into the basket under a balloon and lifts off, I’m certain that part of the adventure is the unknown. Where will we go today? What awaits us? Huh. The idea of having such little control intimidates me. I like control. Yet, when I have control, the places I go are limited by my own imagination and courage. Climbing into a basket and giving the unseen wind control opens up all new vistas. An entire array of new and unconsidered possibilities becomes available. Wow. Okay, God. Today, instead of staying safely in my self-controlled vehicle, I’m going to climb into a basket and ascend into Your sky. Take me where You will!
