I often have the most random, sometimes philosophical thoughts when I stay quiet long enough.
I might be wrong, but I think we can all relate to this.
A few months ago, I was sitting by the window on a flight reading a book. Every now and then, I’d look up and stare at the clouds outside the plane.
As I looked outside, I noticed something strange - it didn’t seem like the plane was moving fast at all. In fact, it felt like we were moving incredibly slowly.
That struck me as odd because I mean, I was in a plane using about an hour to complete a journey that would have taken over 12 hours by road. Of course we were moving fast - very fast. But from where I sat, it didn’t look or feel that way.
I knew there had to be some scientific explanation for it - something about aerodynamics or physics - but I couldn’t quite figure it out. Normally, I’d immediately pick up my phone and research it, but I couldn’t on the flight (Nigerian local flight wahala).
Later that evening, I finally looked it up.
“Why do airplanes seem to move slowly from inside the plane?”
The answer, in summary, was this: our bodies do not really feel speed. Unless there’s sudden acceleration or turbulence, we often have no real perception of how fast we’re actually moving.
Because I have a slightly nerdy streak, I found this fascinating. But as I sat with it, another thought crossed my mind.
This is life.
Sometimes we enter certain seasons and begin to wonder if we’re moving fast enough - or if we’re moving at all. We don’t feel dramatic change, so we assume nothing meaningful is happening.
Meanwhile, we are moving steadily, consistently, and often more quickly than we realise.
This is for the person who has been anxious about the pace of their life. The one wondering why growth seems slow. The one quietly worrying that everyone else is moving ahead while you remain in the same place.
‘He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end.’
Nature and science teach us so much about ourselves and even about the ways of God. That’s why this small moment on a plane stayed with me. It reminded me that things are not always the way they seem.
Our perception is limited. And because it is limited, there comes a point where the only thing left to do is trust.
This might seem simplistic, but what’s the alternative? Anxiety? Constant striving? Exhaustion from trying to force timing that isn’t ours?
I’d rather not.
Friend, trust that God has you and that He is faithful to keep you. Trust that God is working in, through and around you in ways you cannot fully comprehend. Trust that His timing concerning your life is good. Trust God.
‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.’
And if we’re being honest, the problem is often not whether we’re moving - it’s how we think we should be moving.
We compare our pace to other people’s lives and conclude that ours is inadequate. We want visible progress. Dramatic testimonies. The kind of acceleration that makes people stop and marvel.
And somewhere beneath all that comparison is a quieter accusation toward God. We’re saying to Him, You’re moving too slowly for my liking.
‘But you must not forget this one thing, dear friends: A day is like a thousand years to the Lord, and a thousand years is like a day. The Lord isn’t really being slow about his promise, as some people think. No, he is being patient for your sake. He does not want anyone to be destroyed, but wants everyone to repent.’
God is not slow. God is not late. And your life is not standing still.
You are moving, even when it doesn’t feel like it. And the One leading you is faithful and able to bring you safely to where you’re meant to be.
