Flying High

I find my interest changing. I am not into flying like I used to be. I’ve never been interested in sports, fishing or hunting like most guys. But I had a passion for flying. I used it like alcohol or drugs. It was an escape from the pressure of daily stress. I looked for any opportunity to fly, to get high. When I was flying I was in another world and it was a beautiful place where I could soar above the clouds. That was the most awesome feeling. To “break-out on top” into the crystal clear blue sky with unrestricted visibility and with the entire world beneath me covered in a blanket of pure white. It seemed like heaven. It was the most euphoric feeling I have ever known. It was great.

But sometimes I would run into an unexpected wall of weather and as panic replaced euphoria, question after nagging question ran through my mind. How much fuel do I have left? Have I passed the point of no return? Why did I not plan this better before I took off?

I searched the chart for an alternate destination, fumbled for approach plates and contacted center for a change of plans. I frantically reprogrammed the NAV and COM radios with all of my ten thumbs. I pressed the “go to nearest” button on my GPS. Somehow by the grace of God I executed a less that perfect approach, popped out of the overcast with the runway in sight.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for allowing me to log over 4000 hours of mistakes without killing myself or anyone else. Flying was my addiction. I used it like a crutch. But now, Jesus, You are my addiction, you are my crutch. I know my final destination. There is no alternate “on file” regardless of the weather. I have Your approach plates on my knee board. All I have to do is follow the procedures. And I have Your assurance that I will land at Your Father’s house.

Because

“Lord, nothing compares with the promise I have in You”.

Amen


4/12/2007