Fear has made many of my decisions. It has confiscated opportunities and accumulated opposition. I have not realized how regular fear has been too me — up until now. Up until my flight home from Africa.
It was my second flight of the day — entering hour number five on the clock. The cabin starting shifting and I did what I always do. Close eyes, press head against seat, and pray. I envisioned the outside of the aircraft, thousands of feet in the sky suspended in air.(pause) Being tossed around in wind and storm, I latched husbands arm. Whispered, “I’m afraid.”
“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
He rebuked the wind and it ceased.
“Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?”
Despising the fear and faithlessness…I snapped my seat belt and went to the lavatory — which I had been postponing for the last two hours. The storm wasn’t outside the plane, it was inside me — the only storm He cared about.
Even if that plane plummeted to the bottom of the sea, He wanted me to rest in eternity.
This is not an honest life. This place I call, “home”— has not kept its promises. The part of me that will not last — the part that will die with age and illness resists my spirit led life because it could mean the end of it. I use the word, “could,” because it is of the mind that it is superior.
But I live in a world where its inhabitants are torn with machetes and counted as less than human. I will no longer trust in a trip that has not delivered me. I will wait and trust in a God who has continually been my help.
“Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.” Ps 37:3