From a Fearful Flyer…

2 comments

One of the most memorable messages I have ever embraced was learned in a place of my greatest fears.

Okay… so I am lowkey scared of flying. Well maybe it’s highkey… 

I never actually had a reason to be afraid of flying until…

I was coming back from Korea, and I was flying on a domestic flight from Dallas to Norfolk. Our plane finally takes off, and I’m headed back to the areas that I know best. While I was still trying to digest the antics of the past four months abroad, something in my stomach isn’t sitting right about this flight.

As I had just survived (and actually kind of enjoyed) my thirteen-hour flight from Incheon to Dallas, I figured, “What could three more hours really do to me?” But still, after spending some time thinking of ways to distract myself from the unsettling take-off, I inwardly started to panic as I absorb every rocky motion our plane makes.

Just a little more time passes before I felt like I was going to release my ever-so-dramatic anxieties, but I had to keep my composure because there was a 4 year-old boy in the next seat contentedly playing with his fire truck. I can’t be up here letting children make me look childish, man. 

Finally, I realize that the plane maybe be going in circles, and, then, someone confirms that I was not the only person feeling uncomfortable on this flight.

I hear, “Is everything all right?…” as a curious voice echoes my inner fears to a flight attendant passing by.

Her response, “Well actually…”

Pause. That was the wrong answer sis.

Anyways, after hearing that, I immediately zoned out to tend to my panics. Every single one of them. Naturally, I feared the worst. I pulled out my Bible app, sent up frantic prayers, and sat in my scrawny seat heavy with fear.

A few moments later, the pilot came over the loudspeaker alerting us that he had our impending doom under complete control. From what I recall, it went something like this:

“We will be heading back to the airport. A heating light came on while we were in the air, so we have to turn around and land. Oh yeah, and you’re not gonna die.

Then, the young boy’s father playfully told him that he broke the plane. He laughed. About thirty minutes later, real fire trucks surrounded our plane now safely grounded in Dallas.

I was still shook though.

* * * * * *

Even after having that experience, I recognize that fear of flying is still a paradox in that it is reasonable yet also irrational. Yes, you are in the sky where something could “happen,” but something is actually way more likely to “happen” en route the airport– in the comfort of your car. Truth is, I may never fully trust the rigorously-trained, seasoned professionals in the cockpit. But you will forever find me on a plane at every opportunity.

But why?

Not too long following this, careful reflection guided me to this conclusion:

Fear is the negative sign between you and your purpose, always leaving you with a difference of less than…

If I remain fearfully paralyzed of every “flight”, or every possible inconvenience, or even a potential catastrophe, I will never get to truly live. This instance made this even more real. Sometimes the only thing that I’m sure of is that I’m scared.  However, when I embrace my fear, then I can replace my fear. With peace. With hope. With nerve.

It’s always in the pit of vulnerability where I can always find my fire. If something is truly for me, I am determined to always tap into my passion before I tap out. Whatever the outcome, I can rest knowing I did it with everything I had in the least of me. As long as I can do that, I can truly live with “failure.”

These days, I seek to possess a full spectrum of tenacity– from the instinctive audacity of a child learning to walk (or one who eagerly enjoys plane malfunctions mid-air) to the soul-fueled faith of sprinter racing to the finish line in the Olympics.

That’s how 1,000,000 lb machines defy gravity.

That’s how dreams receive existence.

That’s a place from which fear flees.

In a more personal sense, I have come to the realization that I was never meant to stay stagnant, and my purpose will not be fulfilled in one place. (That means more planes… *cringe?*) That wasn’t necessarily a decision– but essential elements to a God-granted mission. As I am still living the rest of it out, I know that fear and barriers of all sorts will approach me on every route, whether it be on the perceived comfort of the ground or amidst the unfamiliarity of the sky.

But now, I am committed to making it a routine to put my passion before me in whatever I do– then, “just take off.”

Will you?…

There is freedom waiting for you,
On the breezes of the sky,
And you ask “What if I fall?”
Oh but my darling,
What if you fly?

Erin Henson

img_0318
29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. 30 And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31 So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Matthew 10:29-31

 

2 comments on “From a Fearful Flyer…”

  1. First of all – To God be the glory for a safe landing and arrival at your destination!! My goodness – what a story! I too am a fearful flyer (I’ve literally cried because of intense turbulence so kudos to you for keeping it together when lightning struck the plane you were in!). I know it’s quite irrational/ does not make sense be more fearful of being on a plane than a car but I just cannot stand being so high up there for too long… Like you what allows me to sort of keep it together is my faith in God and prayer – the hairs on our head are indeed numbered and all we have to do is remember that He is on the throne and we are His forever, wherever. || http://www.lorikemi.com

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s