I always feel helpless when I’m on an airplane. There’s something about not seeing the pilots (to whom I have entrusted my life) that freaks me out. At least I can look at a bus driver and evaluate whether I want to be on a bus for a short period of time. Sometimes I’ll even get glimpses of train conductors (who, in my opinion, tend to be scruffy). Usually I don’t get to meet the pilots until the end of a flight, but that doesn’t do me any good by that point. I know they’re going through their pre-flight checks before takeoff (which are highly important, of course), but gosh, meeting a pilot and knowing he doesn’t have alcohol in his system would really put me at ease.
So what do I do so I don’t have a freaking panic attack? I pray.
Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God. (Psalm 20:7)
Maybe I could change that to a modern version:
Some trust in cars and some in planes, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.
It is a good verse to remember for transportation. I pray and give up everything to God and hope in him for the safety and protection of myself and all on board.
For he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. (Psalm 103:14)
God is sovereign over all things and he was sovereign when planes hit the World Trade Center and he was also sovereign when US Airways Flight 1549 miraculously landed on the Hudson. God watches over each and every plane that takes off, lands, or even sadly, disappears. This is my consolation when I am helpless:
For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. (Philippians 1:21)
Not that I live on the edge of life in the hopes of attaining “gain,” so to speak, but if anything were to happen, I am reminded that I’d receive something better than this present life.
But, hey, I still pray for a safe takeoff, flight, and landing.
I’ve been bitter lately because I haven’t been blessed with a child while I’ve watched others conceive and give birth during that time frame. I have not only prayed for a child, but I’ve cried, pleaded, beseeched, begged, and bargained in the hopes that I might be a mom. Alas, that has not been the case. I get bitter and upset with God, not because He’s not answering my prayer—on the contrary, He is answering my prayer—I am dismayed because He is saying no.
