Sometimes we get too close to see what we should really be seeing. Stepping back, or up as I did last week, is a mind-clearing experience. I left Valdosta Monday morning for an afternoon arrival in Indianapolis.

Soon after the landing gear locked into place in the clear skies as we flew north out of Georgia, I saw the Great Smoky mountain range below us. The mountains were so small but so massive at the same time. Where one mountain came down to make room for another it looked as if someone had drawn a line to separate one from the other. Just as quickly as they had appeared from the window, the mountains dropped from view to make way for a flat, friendlier landscape.

Our plane crossed the Tennessee River but not before allowing us to see what looked to me like every bend and cove. With very little imagination, you can picture yourself on the bank or in a boat backed into one the secluded coves with rod and reel in hand. Even from 10,000 feet, I found a coolness and relaxation from the river.

As you get into Indiana, you are hit with the expanse of the farm land. Squares and rectangles laid below our plane. Green spots stand out around the homes that seemed to stand guard over the farm land. When I got back to my computer, I searched for information on Indiana agriculture. The state? 63,000 farms with 15,400,000 acres. Farmers? 80 percent live on the farm. Average farm size? 236 acres. These facts made sense of field after field of corn and soybeans. No subdivisions, only single homes and barns. Down below in the farm houses were people I think I would like. From 10,000 feet I liked to believe that each house was a great place to eat.

Leaving Indianapolis the next evening, I did not see the farms below but out the east and west windows was my reminder that 10,000 feet is still not high enough to realize there is so much more. To the east, the moon was framed by the plane’s window and to my right and the west was one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Shades of red and orange were painted across the sky with a slight glow of the sun bursting into my window. I would look back at the moon and then to the sunset. The mountains and the beautiful farms were spectacular but what I was seeing to my left and right gave me confirmation of just how blessed we are.

Way too much and too often our lives are lived on a narrow path. When once we wanted to search the world (Lewis and Clark set out for the Northwest Territory from Indiana), we now allow ourselves to be boxed. The real sadness is we are allowing our minds to be limited to what others believe.

From politics to religion, we accept a world narrowed to conservatism or liberalism. I realized looking out my plane’s east and west windows that my God wants me to see and know so much more. We do not have to live by the beat of a self-absorbed talk radio host or a cable news talking head or to a televangelist more interested in the circus than in the Word he or she holds in their hand.

God made us free to believe and to think. Exercise that right, it is way too precious to be boxed.

Sandy Sanders is the publisher of The Valdosta Daily Times.