My friend, Julie, gave me a book for Christmas.
Just in time for me to read before flying out to Oregon. Just in time to confront a few fears. Just in time to learn to walk in liberty.
I had read Angie Smith’s book, Bring the Rain, about the loss of her daughter shortly following her birth. I didn’t know, until Julie gave me this book, that Angie Smith had two more out (I don’t get out much.)
Several chapters spoke to my heart. Who am I kidding? Every chapter spoke to my heart. Then as soon as I finished it. Julie gave me the second one for my trip.
For my plane trip. Really? To read while I sit white knuckled on the plane, flying at whatever-thousand feet, with the clouds well below me, in a pressurized tin can?
Sure and why not. (nervous laugh)
Just pulling out a book with this title on board a plane seems in-your-face ridiculous. I didn’t brave it until my second flight.
During the first flight, three babies are across the aisle from me. Three separate families with little ones. They coo, they cry, they smile at me. I think about the three pieces of advice I was given:
1. From my friend, Pam: You are standing on the shoreline, just imagine with each new wave lapping at your toes, God’s love is filling you up, His peace.
Now that’s some imagery I can get into. That soothes like a balm. His goodness.
2. From my friend, Julie: You’re riding the wave on a surfboard. As you enter the curl, just balance yourself on God’s wave of goodness. (I’m thinking, what about the sharks, what about the wipeout)
3. From my friend, Kay: One time when we were on a small plane in a blizzard with no lights, no heat in the cabin…the noise of the twin propellers drowning out all else, the plane suddenly nose dived. My husband and I grasped hands and said good bye, certain this was the end. Just at the last second, the plane pulled up and landed. Shakily we unboarded the plane only to have the pilot confirm that we weren’t the only ones that thought it was all over. But see, here I am. She also went on to tell me that turbulence is just like a car on a bumpy road, so as long as you are strapped in you won’t hit the ceiling.
Three such apparently opposing viewpoints to help me confront my fears. Three separate friends encouraging me that if I am in His hand, what will it matter?
All three directives comforted my heart in the most astonishing ways. During the first plane trip, the turbulence was a little unsettling. The three babies weren’t even strapped in, they just rode on their parents laps. Totally secure in their minds. Their mamas had them, their papas had them. What was there to worry about?
By the time I got on my second plane, I was ready to stand in the aisle upon take off. I felt like I could surf that wave and all would be well. (Prayers being answered, methinks)
As I confronted my fears and learned to rest in His hand, His peace filled me to such measure that I knew I was being delivered from a bondage I alone had allowed.
The great mountain of my fear dissipated to nothing. Does He ask me to stand out on the wing and surf?
No. He promises to hold me in His right hand. So whether I plummet or land safely all is well.
All is well.