A voice (or maybe voices) from above…

Several years ago, when I was flying balloons regularly over the Mesilla Valley, I was conducting a routine flight on a beautiful late fall Sunday morning. It was a time of year when the last of the Monsoon wind currents predictably moved me slowly north over the valley, temperatures were crisp but invigorating and my passengers and I were provided with spectacular sights of vast pecan orchards turning their leaves into a sea of fall gold.

As I drifted north, I spotted a somewhat familiar fixture on west Amador Avenue — the EROS adult video store. Much to my surprise and to that of my passengers, we spotted a line of people waiting to get into the store when it opened at 8 a.m. — on a Sunday morning, for Pete’s sake.

After my initial surprise, I conjured up a devious plan. Since I had not had to use my very loud balloon blast valve regularly because of the cool weather, I thought I could just silently swoop over the waiting customers and then pronounce from high above, after a blast of my terrifying burner: “This is GOD, why are you here on a Sunday morning?”

As I was about to execute my plan, I was suddenly overcome with a chilling thought. What if I suddenly heard this from a powerful and clear voice above me?

“This is GOD. Why aren’t YOU, Patrick Lamb, in church this morning?”

With that, I chose to simply float silently over them as I drifted northward, sans any startling blast valve shock, judgmental pronouncements or questions. My passengers and I simply waved to the people standing in line and they waved back. Hopefully, all of those on the ground and in the air were given an opportunity for some introspective thinking.

2 thoughts on “A voice (or maybe voices) from above…

  1. Many years ago, I was jogging, very, very late at night up Dripping Springs Road. Where Soledad Canyon Road emptied into Dripping Springs, there was a large barrier. As I jogged, I heard a car going through it’s gears. I was very close to the intersection. The car stopped and some teenagers emptied from it and they were attempting to tear down the barrier. I stepped into the brush and in a stentorian voice instructed, “Stop what you are doing! Leave now!” You could smell the fear as they clambered into the vehicle and returned to their source.

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