If there’s one thing in my life that I’ve kind of mastered, it’s being on airplanes.
Actually… I’m on one RIGHT NOW as I write this.
I recently found myself on an airplane, getting ready to land. It was a really bumpy flight and they made the flight attendants sit down early and there was a lot of tension in the air. It wasn’t the hugest thing – sometimes air is weird, right? It just is. It wasn’t that I was SCARED or NERVOUS, just tense.
We were getting closer and closer to the ground, and that’s when I started freaking.
I wanted to yell to the pilot “SLOW DOWN, SIR!!! YOU ARE GOING TOO FAST!!!!”
Honestly, I thought we were going to be unable to stop, speed off the end of the runway and I would die outside of the Denver airport, but then I realized I could at least check that off of my 101 list, kind of.
We hit the ground hard, and the little flappy things on the wing flew up and the plane started fighting to slow down and then… it slowed down… and soon enough I was safe and sound inside of the Denver airport as they were shutting down ALL THE FOOD PLACES (that’s a completely irrelevant point, but I just wanted to make it).
As we were pulling into the gate, I thought to myself… Stephanie, you need to take a chill pill. You are not a pilot. You actually referred to a part of the plane as the “flappy things.” I don’t know what a single button in the control panel does, I have no real idea how a plane defies gravity and flies in the air… I am actually really clueless about piloting a plane.
I think I do that a lot with God, if I’m honest.
I’m in the back, watching stuff out the window, thinking “HOLD ON, MISTER. WAIT A MINUTE. ARE YOU SURE? REALLY?”
The things I am freaking out about are things I have absolutely no control over. Maybe that’s why it’s easy to be critical, because being critical at least makes me feel like I’m a part of something that’s actually too big for me to assist.
I guess that’s what Jesus means when he talks about not worrying. God’s the pilot, we’re the passengers, and it’s not His job to consult us for our desired landing style or to teach us what the purpose of the flappy things are; it’s our job to trust and it’s His job to pilot.
Easier said than done for sure, but when we realize how little our worrying accomplishes, we are able to heed the words of Queen Elsa and LET. IT. GO.
Here’s to embracing the turbulence and trusting the pilot.