The captain called them significant bumps, and for several
moments I savored the sheer artistry of that phrase. Significant is a weighty, mature word. Unrushed. Elegant.
Controlled. And bumps is possibly the most adorable word ever. This was a word
match made in Heaven. Well done, Southwest. Well done.
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| Pixabay.com via Wikkimedia.org |
I love everything about flying.
Love catapulting through those mechanical entry doors and being swept up in
this swirling eddy of vibrant humanity. Love skidding down miles of shiny
terminal tiles with every possible color, race, age, size, height, and
personality God made. Everyone has a look. Everyone has a gait. Mannerisms.
History. Agenda. Some move fast. Some move slow. It’s a free for all on visual
bliss. And everyone is a potential new friend.
Correction. I love everything
about flying but flying.
So when the deep, sincere voice
warned us of significant turbulence while we soared thousands of feet above
ground round, with nothing but a few inches of metal between us and angry sky, I
had to think fast. Lest they have to squeegee me off the ceiling, or my seat
neighbor tire of me rocking back and forth in the fetal position. Or I unleash
a blood-curdling, unrelenting scream. These things well up deep inside me and
threaten to actually happen in
turbulence. Is no bueno.
I began by picturing Jesus. He
looked remarkably like the flannelgraph version. But it was not the thought of
a long-haired, white-robbed man sitting next to me that soothed my rising
insides. It was simply remembering He was there with me, and that His presence
carried the weight of all the words He’s every spoken to me. You see, if we are to weather any turbulence in life,
we must make the connection between Christ’s presence and His words.
This is what I found as we
braced for impact:
1. He keeps people
in perfect peace when they stay their mind on Him. I talked with Him about this
as we started our descent into Atlanta. How trusting=focusing my
thoughts=complete peace. And I led my mind down a long path of thoughts about
Him. My insides stopped churning.
2. There is goodness
and mercy in every day of my life. David concludes this at the end of His
famous 23rd Psalm. Surely, this is the case if God is our Shepherd.
So I looked for God’s steadfast loving-kindness as my ears popped and the
fasten seatbelt sign dinged. I found it all around me.
3. The Lord is my
helper, I will not fear what man can do to me.
I’ll admit when I remembered these words, my first thought was, “but man
didn’t strap you to a narrow cylinder hurtling at an alarming rate towards
certain death!” But the point is this: if my God were as visible as He was
present, everyone on that plane would beg to be on His side. The God who speaks
things into existence, the God who ‘upholds the government of worlds,’ the God
with nail scars in His hands, who came alive from being dead by His own power…this
God is with me. This God is my helper. My fear stayed at 30,000ft.
There were other Bible words
that flooded my mind as we all sat there with fluttering hearts. But, if I were
to be completely honest, I’d say that those significant bumps never actually
happened. We jostled a few times, and landed on firm ground just after the
major storm had moved on. Hmmm. Sounds like a Divine hand to me. And as we
shuffled off the plane exhausted but relieved, a grin (I’m afraid it was
cheesy) spread across my face. I could picture Jesus. He would carry and comfort me through any turbulence.
Beth
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