Hey ya’ll! Did you know I’m scared of flying? Ok, that’s a silly question because anyone who knows me, or has been in earshot of my conversations a day before I fly, knows I am scared—more like terrified—of flying. I’ve been known to become physically ill days before flying, and the last day of vacation is typically spent in a frenzy of anxiety. And that’s just leading up to a flight, it’s a whole ‘nother ball game once I get inside the deathcraft.
I do attempt to calm my fear with a few strategies. First, I smile and say hi to the flight attendants —nice guys may finish last but nice girls get saved first. Second, I survey the plane for any potential terrorists. Third, I check for crying babies because I feel like if Gods going to take a plane down it’s going to be one that has very few children passengers. Lastly, I find the closest exit, count how many seats I would need to jump in case of an emergency, and say a prayer. I wish I was joking, I am not. This time around, I was determined to keep my fear at bay and be the confident, fearless, flight savvy mom who takes her daughter on spring break like it ain’t no thing—maybe that explains why I carried an aerosol can of “spring water” to spritz on my face like I imagine real housewives do in their cool, calm, and collected journeys around the world. So I borded that flight ready to spread my wings and flyyy…spritz…flyyy, spritz, spritz, spritz, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
In all honesty, I did have a greater confidence going into this trip. Maybe it’s my growing faith, but before I left I made a pact with the man in the clouds that I was going to trade my fear for trust. So off I went, on a stormy night, thirty thousand feet above with a little can of water and a whole lot of repetitive mind chanting that went a little like this, “I will trust you, I will trust you, I will trust you.” And then the pilot came on to tell us “to expect a bumpy ride, and unfortunately it is unsafe for the flight attendants to move about the cabin due to unexpected rough air, so no drinks for you, and basically you might die” And so it continued— “I will trust you” .. spritz, “I think I will trust you” .. spritz, spritz. And in the midst of the plane jerking and jeering like an old wooden rollercoaster, I heard a faint whisper “will you trust me in the turbulence?”
Will I trust Him when life gets bumpy? When unexpected rough air makes my smooth ride not so smooth? Will I trust him when I feel like I have no control? Will I trust him when I can’t see ahead of me? When the clouds overtake my vision and I can only see tiny glimpses of light?
“Will I trust Him?”
That was the question I pondered throughout the rest of the flight. I thought how easy it is to trust God when things are going smoothly, when there are very few bumps. But how well do I really trust him when things don’t go my way, when heartbreak blurs my vision, when obstacles stand in my way, and circumstances bump me out of my comfort zone? My honest answer would be not very well. I have trust issues with God. I want him to always be good, but don’t want that good to come from something bad, hard, or sad. But if I get real for a minute most all of the good that God has worked in my life has come from hardships, heartbreaks, and hard times. And I would probably have less wrinkles if I had trusted him during those turbulent times.
So once I started to believe my chant, and really trusted Him, an unusual calm came over me on that flight. I realized that every moment, and every day of my life has already been written by a God who is good— even when life becomes unexpectedly bumpy. I need only to trust Him from the bottom of my heart | Proverbs 3:5 …. and when He says “why don’t you drive next time,” I’ll listen 😉