Answer 9 Keeping My Feet Firmly on the Ground
I admit it. I’m deathly afraid of flying. For some strange reason, I often equate frying in an airplane with dying, so I tend to avoid airplanes as often as possible. This wasn’t always true. Before Sevilla and I were married, I often flew around South Dakota but after getting married, my interest in flying took a nose dive.
However, there are times when boarding a airplane is the fastest or most expedient mode of transportation. Here are two examples of the Lord’s tender regard for my fears.
Sevilla and I were returning to Michigan from Los Angeles on the night President Reagan won the election for his first term. It was late in the evening, around 10:30, we were riding in a taxicab to the airport, and my palms were already perspiring with fear.
Approaching the airport, the Lord spoke to me. Graciously, he intended them as comforting but I took no comfort. “You will not die tonight,” was his message. With this marvelous assurance, you would think confidence would return and fear would vanish but my faith was weak (can I say it is strong today?) and fear remained throughout the flight which landed safely, without incident in Chicago several hours later.
When life, at its best, is tenuous, and we have not the assurance of our next breath, let alone the hope of the next few hours, this assurance from the Lord was indeed most gracious and my continued fear displayed a woeful lack of faith in him.
In 1994? we planned to attend a religious conference in Washington, D.C. The quickest way of travel was by plane from Knoxville to Nashville thence to Washington. By this time, my faith was a LITTLE stronger, although I was still terrified of flying. Twenty minutes after taking off, I opened my eyes, although I dared not glance out of the window until we were somewhere over the Appalachian mountains.
While the Lord did not give me an assurance of life this time, he spoke to me through scriptures such as; “Fear not, I will uphold thee with my right hand,” which kept revolving in my mind. On our way back from Washington, I managed to get out of my seat, walk about the aircraft, and even glance out of the windows at the ground many thousands of feet below us. I often wondered if I am not a bit superstitious, fearing least the act of glancing out of the window might cause the plane to crash.
Shortly before Sevilla and I were married in 1972, I must have been temporarily insane for I contemplated, for several days, the stupid idea of sky diving. The Lord preserved me from that rash act and has since restored my sanity, although, despite these two instances of love, I still fear flying.
Praise the Lord!