The thing about airplanes

I don’t like flying.

Obviously it’s absolutely necessary for these adventures that I crave so much: Haiti, Israel, now Texas. And I know there are people who do it all the time.

‘Up in the Air’ is one of my favorite movies. George Clooney’s character is a rock star traveler. Actually feels more at home when he’s in a plane than where he actually lives.

There’s an entire scene where he is teaching his protégé how to get through an airport quickly. I should take note.

I’m flying to Texas in a few hours. My baby cousin is getting married. He’s 28, good looking, hard worker, funny, plays guitar, loves kids, a real catch. Was always one of my favorites. (Sniff. They grow up so fast.)

I remember flying to Kentucky for his sister’s wedding about 7 years ago. Caroline was three years old going to be one of the flower girls. She had never flown before.

Caroline was very excited about it. She really had no idea what flying involved, but she knew that it was high and fast and on the other side of it, she got to be a princess. So she was all for it.

She was already a pretty smart kid at that point. Big personality. LOTS of opinions. I never had to wonder what’s going on in her head and really wasn’t sure what to expect from her. Would she cry? Throw up? Scream? Throw a fit? Sleep through it all? No telling.

Turns out the actual flight was the easy part. There was a window to look out, her portable DVD player showing ‘Hercules’ as many times as she wanted, a seemingly endless supply of Goldfish and juice. Life was good on the airplane. It was the airPORT that was the challenge.

I was grateful to be flying with my folks as well, as a single mom with a toddler. Dad was always there to offer to carry my heavy backpack full of the DVD player, books, snacks, etc. Mom was quick to distract Caroline when things started to go south.

But as you know, I’ve got issues. And especially back then I had a huge need to prove to the world that I could do everything MYSELF. So I juggled my purse, my backpack, the boarding passes, IDs, stuffed animals and my child through Orlando International Airport.

Caroline was captivated.

There were escalators, elevators, moving sidewalks, toy stores, fountains, restaurants, Mickey Mouse over here, Shamu over there. Not to mention oodles of planes coming and going outside every window.

So much to see, so much to do. Escalators to catch toes, elevators to pinch fingers, toy stores to make her wander away so a stranger could snatch her up. I was running short of hands, so I was desperately hoping my really-not-that-scary mommy voice would keep her close.

“Stay with me, honey. Caroline, stay with Mommy. Look at me, baby. Stay with me.”

If I said it once, I said it a thousand times. And thankfully I was usually able to break through whatever distraction had caught her gaze, she would refocus on me, and run to catch up. I never took my eyes off of her, but her eyes were naturally drawn toward everything but me, until I reminded her to keep moving. We had a plane to catch.

At one point, I was growing weary of hearing my own voice say the same thing over and over again. I was taking a deep breath before calling out one more ‘stay with me,’ and then suddenly heard another Voice in my heart. I shot a brief glance toward heaven, exhaled and smiled.

Oh how many times a day does my King call out the same thing? Lindsey, stay with Me. Stay with Me, My child. Look at Me, Lindsey. Stay with Me.

The fact is, without God, I have about as much chance as navigating this life successfully as three-year-old Caroline would getting through the airport to the right plane before it left.

This world is full of distractions, dangers, and decisions. Numerous vehicles to get to infinite locations. Lots of sights to distract me and slow me down. Pretty things to lure me away from my Father so the enemy can attack.

But there is one place I need to go, and He alone knows how to get me there. He never takes His eyes off me, but my vision is littered with options. And so, if I listen, I will hear Him reminding me all day long, Stay with Me. Stay with Me. I’m over here, My child. Keep your eyes on Me. Stay with Me.

I smile now thinking of Caroline in the airport. Eyes wide with possibilities. Pigtails swishing right and left as she turned her head to take it all in. “Mommy, look! Mickey Mouse! Mommy, can I go jump in that water fountain? Mommy, I want a snack!” All she could see were possibilities.

But she didn’t see the dangers or consequences.

I felt like I was saying no to everything. But if she jumped in the fountain, she’d be wet and miserable for the rest of the day. If we went to look at Mickey Mouse, she’d be tempted by everything in the store. And if we stopped for a snack before we went through security, we risked cutting it too close and missing our plane.

It’s easy to look around at all there is to experience in this world and feel like we might be getting ripped off. God’s holding out on us. He’s just saying no, just to say no. Satan’s been spreading that lie since Genesis. Did God really say not to do that? He just knows that it will make you happy and He doesn’t want that because He doesn’t love you. Take your time. Do your own thing.

But God can see all consequences of every decision we make. The things we may enjoy for a moment could have harmful long-term effects that we would never imagine. His guidelines, boundaries and structure are for our well being, safety and most importantly, His purpose.

We all know from our own lives that there is much pain He purposefully does NOT prevent in our lives. And wrestling that one through will take a lifetime.

I think the hardest part of flying is the lack of control.

I just got back from a five-day road trip with Beau. We could stop whenever we wanted, for as long as we wanted, go out of the way to hit the Varsity, etc.

But when you fly, the only thing you get to decide is what you want to drink on the plane.

You follow someone else’s schedule, someone else’s rules. And if something goes wrong, there’s a chance you could be stuck where you don’t want to be (which has happened to me on more than one occasion).

Andrew Peterson captures the lesson beautifully in one of his lesser-known songs ‘The Thing About Airplanes.’

Now the thing about airplanes I notice this time
Is you can’t look ahead and you can’t look behind
But you can see where you are when you look out the side
You can try to recover some peace

So you really are forced to just be where you are. No looking ahead where anxiety lives. No looking back where depression lives. Just impatiently living in the moment.

And we all know I could use some more practice at that.

A couple of stanzas before that one is what I’ll hold onto this trip:

Now these clouds appear solid, but the plane barrels through
An illusion of substance without any truth
So I’ll rest on Your wings, Lord, and savor the view
And I won’t let my fear in the way

And I’ll try to consider it joy while I’m here
‘Cause I read that I’m blessed if I persevere
God fashions a crown from the pain and the tears
And He carries us all of the way
Yes, He carries us all of the way