One of the biggest problems with flying a paramotor is that you can’t really share the experience with someone. Sure, you can take pictures. You can tell stories. You can point to the sunset and say, “You should have seen it from up there!” But it’s not quite the same.
So I thought I had partially solved the problem.
I bought a helmet with communications built in so I could call my wife while I was flying. I imagined myself soaring over the countryside, giving Liz a live commentary.
“Look at that sunset!”
“The corn looks amazing from up here!”
“You won’t believe what God has created!”
A few thousand feet above her lawn chair, I would be sitting in my flying lawn chair, sharing the experience in real time. I tested everything on the ground. It seemed to work.
Then I launched.
As the sun dipped lower and the countryside turned golden, I pushed the call button. Nothing. I pushed it again. Nothing. I pushed it a third time. Still nothing.
Apparently my communications system was about as effective as trying to call someone from inside a running blender.
When I landed, Liz informed me that I had successfully called and hung up on her several times. The calls worked perfectly. I just couldn’t hear them over the sound of the motor and my bargain-bin audio system.
Meanwhile, up above the world, I was looping and swooping and telling God how awesome He is for creating all these wonders.
Not long after that, the internet quit working in our Silo Loft guest house. Guests were arriving soon and we had no connection.
For a brief moment I considered marketing it as an “unplugged luxury retreat.” No internet. No social media. No doom scrolling. No comparing your life to everyone else’s highlight reel. Just peace, quiet, and the sound of birds. Maybe we could even charge extra. But apparently people still expect internet. So I started troubleshooting. Have you ever struggled with connection?
My wife and I celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary today! Springtime farming has a unique ability to make a husband disappear without actually leaving home. I can spend weeks operating in a mode somewhere between exhausted and unconscious while my wife needs quality time the way fish need water.
After a couple weeks of being mostly offline, our marriage was starting to resemble the guest house internet. Connected in theory. Spotty in practice. I once heard someone say, “You are either paddling toward oneness or drifting toward isolation.” That sentence has stuck with me.
Back at the guest house, I finally called some smarter people than me. After a little advice, I realized what I needed to do. I had to learn a new skill. I needed to put new ends on Cat6 ethernet cable.
If you’ve never done that before, let me assure you that it was clearly designed by someone who enjoys watching people suffer. You have to line up eight tiny little wires in exactly the right order, somehow fit them into a connector that appears to be too small for any of them, and then crimp everything together while hoping and praying nothing moves.
When that awful little orange light of no connection finally turned into a bright green glow connection, I celebrated like we had just won a state championship.
Connection restored!
That got me thinking about a mission statement Liz and I wrote together:
“As a couple, we exist to glorify God, living a life of worship by loving each other well, raising disciples, and serving our community, so that others may experience Christ’s love and be transformed. God is calling us to represent His grace and forgiveness to others. We want to love people like Jesus.”
The phrase that stood out to me this anniversary was simple: “Loving each other well.”
Just like internet connections don’t fix themselves, relationships don’t either. Connection takes intention.
So for our anniversary we sent the kids – except for the newborn – to Grandma and Grandpa’s. Then we escaped for steaks, burgers (yep, both!), and a night in a beautifully restored barn.
It wasn’t complicated. It was simply time set aside to reconnect. The funny thing is that whether it’s a helmet communicator, an internet cable, or a marriage, connection usually doesn’t happen by accident.
It takes effort. It takes attention. Sometimes it even takes learning a few new skills.
The same is true in our relationship with God.
Many of us spend our lives surrounded by noise. We hear tractors, motors, news reports, notifications, opinions, worries, and deadlines. Pretty soon we find ourselves like I was in that paramotor helmet – pushing the button, trying to communicate, but unable to hear what is being said.
The good news is that God has never stopped calling. Jesus made a way for our broken connection to be restored. Jesus didn’t come merely to improve reception. He came to reconcile us to God completely.
Maybe what some of us need isn’t better technology, stronger Wi-Fi, or a new communications system. Maybe we just need to slow down long enough to read his Word so we can hear His voice. Because that’s the most important connection of all.
Meet your farmer – Jonathan Gerdes. He and his wife run a farm-to-table raw milk dairy and farm airbnb in Caledonia, Minn. If he isn’t in the barn, you can find him dating his wife, playing with his kids, leading youth group, or flying in the sky. Visit gerdesfreshfarm.com for more info.
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