When Your Friend Floats into the Sky (Ascension Thoughts)

I just imagine Jesus’ closest friends feeling all the things—from awe-struck amazement to low-key annoyance.

I don’t know why I’m typing this with an Italian accent, but I imagine Simon Peter throwing up his hands like,

“Seriously?! You just left! When you comin’ back?!” Then turning to the others with a smirk and a thumb jerk, “This guy…”

I give the apostles a lot of credit. The whole coming-and-going-of-Jesus thing could’ve caused some serious abandonment wounds. (Thank goodness Pentecost is just around the corner.)

But in all seriousness—it really is wild to imagine your dearest friend, your teacher, your Lord… lifting His hands to bless you, and then literally rising into the sky.

The only thing I’ve ever seen remotely like it is Mary Poppins catching a breeze. One second she’s there, opening her umbrella; the next, she’s floating away like it’s no big deal.

Today, I don’t have anything particularly profound to say—just an empathic closeness to those who stood there, watching. Another larger-than-life moment. Another mystery. Another invitation to stay open. To wonder. To ponder.

So I’ll be placing myself in that moment—in the crowd. Looking up at Jesus. Glancing over at Mary. Watching the disciples’ faces. And letting the Lord speak to this moment in my life.

No expectations. Just presence. Sometimes that’s enough.