So, I flew to Italy a month ago, and now I’d like to confess something to you: I can become somewhat uncomfortable whenever I am in an enclosed space, and more so when I am in places of notable height. The experts call it claustrophobia and acrophobia, but I’ll just combine them both and call it clacrophobia. As a “clacrophobist” it was no small feat for me to intentionally, of my own freewill, board an enclosed space with a massive wingspan that would ultimately soar 30,000 feet into the highest of heights … over the frigid North Atlantic! (I’m not really afraid of water, just falling into the frigid North Atlantic. I wonder what they call that phobia.) Furthermore, I paid dearly to put myself in this perilous, precarious position! What was I thinking?
The flight attendant goes over the safety instructions, but who’s kidding who? So what if my tightened seatbelt keeps me safely tucked in my seat as we sail 30,000 feet to the earth below? And what if I can’t find that laminated safety card mid-fall so that I can quickly review the oxygen mask run-down? Those people sitting in the roomier exit rows aren’t even paying attention to the instructions on how to unlock the big doors! What happens when they’re called to active duty, scratching their heads because they forgot to listen to the teacher at the beginning of the flight? Don’t just sit there enjoying all that leg room, listen to the lady! Wait – are the floatation devices under my seat or in the overhead compartment – why can’t they be more specific?
I look out the window to try and distract myself. Wow – that wing is huge. I wonder how much it weighs. I wonder if all those rivets holding that baby on to this Airbus are able to handle all that weight. I understand it can get pretty windy up in the clouds. Speaking of weight, how much does this plane weigh? The wise side of me thought it best not to research that bit of information at this point, but the wise side of me also chose to stay safe and sound on the ground back in Rochester. Over 500 tonnes? What is a tonne and how do you pronounce tonne? It must be similar to a ton….oh, here it is. 1 tonne equals 1000 kg, otherwise known as a metric ton. Oh, but look here – they were able to shave about 15 tonnes off by using a non-metal product on some portions of the plane. Nice. Good to know. I wonder if paying more attention in Physics class might have helped alleviate some of this angst rising inside. I never understood the whole aerodynamics thing. In my mind, big, heavy objects generally are harder to get off the ground than say, a butterfly. I purpose not to think too much more on the fact that I have willingly strapped myself into an enclosed space aboard an “Airbus” that weighs well over 500,000 kg knowing it’s about to take off, soaring to unthinkable heights for several hours, over the frigid North Atlantic, entrusting myself, my husband and my child into the hands of a couple of guys (probably younger than I), who have stripes sewn on to the shoulders of their crisp, white shirts, and their hands on the wheel of this bus in order to take us from point A to point B . Breathe, just breathe.
So why does a clacrophobist willingly put herself in such a position? I had about 8 hours to think about it on the way over the ocean. First of all, my desire to arrive at point B was far stronger than my fear of the process required to get there. Let me say that again – MY DESIRE TO ARRIVE AT POINT B WAS FAR STRONGER THAN MY FEAR OF THE PROCESS REQUIRED TO GET THERE. After all, my daughter and her husband were at point B. An adventure with my family was at point B. History and encounter and wonder were at point B. I have to tell you, I love point B – and the fear that might have wanted to hinder my journey, had to admit defeat when I buckled my seatbelt on that plane. “Click – I’m going to Italy, Fear, so deal with it. “
Perhaps of greater significance however, is the fact that this recovering clacrophobist had previously chosen to entrust her life, health and well-being to the care of a Heavenly Father who promised never to leave or forsake her. Whether I’m on the ground or in mid-air, I am confident the Lord is with me, and knows how to manage my life. On this flight, the Lord kept me company and in the course of our flight, He reminded me that in this uncertain life, I may lack complete knowledge of specific things like aerodynamics and microbiology and sanctification and such – but that doesn’t make those things less trustworthy. My knowledge of those things doesn’t put me more in control and it doesn’t make me safer. They are principles and truths that are not dependent upon my understanding them to hold true. In some weird way, I think if I “get it”, I’ll be safer, but that’s just a desire to control my world. So I guess that’s the real confession here: not that I fear enclosed spaces or high places, but that I tend to want to control my world in order to feel safe, when in fact, my salvation is already assured by the One who knows everything, holds everything and loves me dearly.
I wonder - do you have a desire in this New Year to get to a point B? Perhaps you would like to learn a new skill, or you would like to adopt a spiritual discipline, or be more outward, or be a better example of the love of Jesus. Maybe, like me, you just want to learn to trust God more fully. Sometimes, the transformation process can be very unsettling as we look towards point B, but can I encourage you to click the seatbelt and trust your Pilot? He knows what He’s doing, He knows where you need to go, and He knows how to carry you there. Breathe and trust Him.
