The Black Family Weblog

Some of you know I am a bad flyer.  And for those of you who don’t, I would submit my definition of a bad flyer as a white-knuckled armrest-gripping, blank-minded, irrational, unconversational, and unresponsive lump of goo belted into a seat cushion which (conveniently enough) serves as a flotation device. 

Today, I had the opportunity to practice bad flying at its best (or is that worst?).  My return flight from San Francisco was “slightly bumpy,” according to the pilot.  My initial assessment was more along the lines of driving a super-light monster truck on giant balloon tires over a herd of live stampeding buffalo. 

Because my natural instinct at times like these is generally to run up and down the aisle screaming and flailing, much like many of the wilder rock bands in the late 80’s and early 90’s were wont to do in concert arenas, and because that sort of response to turbulence is generally frowned upon by aircraft crew, the FAA, and armed air marshals, I latched onto a less natural but more clearly more effective alternative: prayer.  And I mean I prayed like mad.  Well, God certainly has an interesting way of answering prayers. 

It was right about the time I was feeling great doubt about the ultimate destiny of the muffin and latte breakfast I’d enjoyed swallowed whole about ten minutes before boarding (digestion? paper baggie? seatmate?) that He granted me the gift of extreme exhaustion from the previous two 15 hour work days away from home.  I have never been so thankful to be completely worn out before.  I slept for two hours of jostling, waking only once during a brief period of falling aircraft, and thankfully still so tired that I fell right back to sleep.

By the time I’d really “gotten my nap out” (as my very sweet mother-in-law would say), we were over the worst of it and into smooth flying.

God is good, all the time.  Even when His gifts seem a little odd, they are just exactly what we need!