My words are few this week. I mostly have photos. They are not perfect. They are grainy, taken through plastic plane windows. At night. But I must share because you might need this too.

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On Tuesday I flew home through the night.

I left Seattle at 9:30 pm. I flew north, following the coastline of British Columbia. How many times have I made this flight? Over the last 42 years, at least 500 times. But only a few times like this . . .

Sometimes I have no eyes for what lies outside the window. Sometimes I have to watch a movie, or read, or write or catch up on correspondence.

But this night, I had to watch. I peered through 2 plastic panes, iphone in hand, watching in the near-dark: glaciers, craters, long bays and not a single light of human presence most of the way.

And the strangest thing happened. As the hours ticked by, later and later, it got lighter and lighter. Of course.

 We were flying north. In the summer, northern latitudes are tilted toward the sun.

We landed in Anchorage after midnight. A month from now it will be utterly light at midnight. But not yet. Still, a midnight sunset over Denali, 235 miles away.

What does this mean? Frederick Buechner writes, “Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid.”

We see mostly terrible things on our screens every day. But here is beauty: Vast, wild magnificent beauty. It’s all around you too. Find it. Know the God of beautiful things will carry you through the terrible things like a silvery jet winging you safely through the night, toward a mountain ringed in light.

Keep watch at the window.

Friends, thank you for flying with me today! It’s been a busy week. I’m visiting Ann Voskamp’s farm porch here as well this week—-or rather, she is visiting mine!!

What beautiful things have you seen out your plane window this week?