Watching sunrise, 39,000’ over the Rockies. The first light pinks cloud tops below, that turn to orange, then white. The land moves up to mountains poking through brightening clouds, down into valleys still filled with morning mist, then up again. The cycles of day and night, mountain and valley close their circles – just like me. I come to bury a friend.

Art Loomis knew me in the early days when I first followed Jesus. My life swerved and screeched like an old truck with loose steering and soft brakes on a mountain road. Every time I veered for the edge he’d appear with exactly the right word. Instead of sailing off into the abyss, I’d crash into his guard rail and bounce back onto the road.

Later we worked together – he the chemist, me the pilot. Art flew nearly as often as the boss but with a big difference. Art loved the idea of flying. His body hated the practice. When I raised the nose for takeoff, Art scrunched down, eyes squeezed shut. He uncoiled only when all 3 tires rolled on the ground once more. But he returned, flight after flight.

Then, I moved to the Amazon jungle and he to Colorado. His ministry grew from small circle to big, from few to many. That he followed Jesus was not so remarkable as how he followed Him. Art didn’t just do good deeds. Rather, he invested himself into every life that entered his sphere. Neither location, circumstance nor hours accumulated mattered. Only the promise of freeing a heart held him.

As we descend into Denver, I have to ask, “Now what?” Do I just say, “Thanks, that was nice,” and go on my way? After all, Jesus saved us by grace and commanded us to live by grace. Life’s all about seeing Him work, isn’t it? But the truth is, He also gave us free will. Sometimes, the ball lands in our court. And we have to choose: watch it go by or take a swing?

So, how do you allow the investments in your life to bear fruit?