Flying is For The Birds

Birds look so graceful when they fly. Jets look impressive and butterflies look sweet. As for me?
I just look pale, shaky and scared.

I wish I enjoyed flying. I wish it didn't scare me. I wish, I wish, I wish.

My first experience with flying was with Markel Maust when I was about three or four years old. He took  my parents and my big sister up in his small airplane. I remember being strapped into the same seatbelt as Kimmy and flying over Northern High School. I don't remember being scared then and as far as I remember it was a good experience.

Fast forward now 30-something years. I have decided I don't like heights and the idea of flying makes me queasy and sweaty. I'm not sure why, it just does. Flying hadn't been necessary until now.

Adrienne and I decided to go with a group to Guatemala on a missions trip. I had no choice but to fly. Sitting in the airplane, waiting, was torture. Then the engines started with a roar and I felt like an internal countdown had begun. A time bomb. I gripped the seat as we rushed down the runway and before I really knew it, we were airborne.

And it wasn't so bad.

After getting to Texas, we had to wait for our connecting flight. The longer the wait, the more the fear began to rear its ugly head again. This time though, I knew what to expect and didn't grip the seat quite so hard. The landing was the worst part as I was seeing building fly by us, fast, and we hadn't touched down yet. When we did, it was, shall we say, bumpy and abrupt.

I survived.

Coming home, we had to do all the security stuff to leave the country. Shall we just say that you should never put fingernail clippers in your back pocket and forget about them? Our flight took us to Miami where we had a very brief time to make our connecting flight to Pittsburgh. Our group got separated and as we dashed through the airport, I learned that it seems much more romantic in movies to do the same thing. Believe me, it was anything but a romantic adventure. Somehow we made it to where we needed to be, and when they took us out to our plane, I really thought it looked like a Fisher Price jet. Very small.

I learned that a smaller plane goes much higher and faster than others and that I should consider it lucky to be aboard. I just hoped our flight attendant was right. As we got close to Pittsburgh and began to drop altitude, everybody aboard groaned out loud as it was a bit like a roller coaster.

Again, I survived, although my luggage didn't make it until a few days later.

Fast forward again, just a few years this time.

I need to fly in a helicopter for work as we go on transports to outlying hospitals for sick babies. I have been on 2 flights so far and really can't say that I hope for more. Even though flying hasn't been terrible, it still just scares me to the point that I feel like I can't move. Somehow God gives me the strength to do what I need to do, and I am usually okay once I am in motion again.

Still not graceful, impressive, or sweet, but at least surviving as I go through the motions.
Why does it scare me? I don't know.
Will I let it conquer me? No.
Will I pray hard every time? Yes

I hope that today, whatever it is that is making you afraid, that you will face it head-on. Take a deep breath, pray and take that first step forward. You never know where it might take you.

Up, up and away,
Dianne