Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Matthew 6:26-27
I used to love to fly. When I was a kid, my family traveled a lot. I looked forward to the plane trip as much as the vacation. Things changed after I became a mom and started worrying that I might die and leave my kids orphans. Even though they are old enough to have babies of their own, I am still nervous about flying. My stomach knots, and I grip the armrest. I feel every bump and thump from take off to landing. What’s worse than the flight is the anxiety before leaving. I feel the need to clean my house thoroughly imagining all the people who will come through should I die in a plane crash. I clear space in the refrigerator for all the casseroles that will be delivered for consumption after the funeral. I usually take at least a day off work before leaving town not only so I can pack my bags, but so I can prepare my house. Just in case. This week, work was impossibly busy which kept me from taking time off prior to leaving for a weekend trip to Asheville with Vicki. She wanted to check on the renovations to her house and pick out kitchen materials and invited me along. I needed a break from the stress of work, but before I could get to the peace of the mountains had to make it through a plane ride. We flew a low budget airline that charged extra for checking bags and choosing a seat in advance. Vicki and I decided just to take bags that could be carried onto the plane, but if we chose a bag too large, it would be pulled and we would be charged $35 to have it checked. So, I borrowed a bag from a friend who has flown this airline in the past to ensure that my bag would fit in the overhead compartment. Still, I worried. When I arrived at the airport and compared my bag to the frame designed to simulate proper size, my bag appeared to be too large. However, the woman who checked me in made no mention about my bag being oversized, so I hoped that it would be alright. After a tortuous search of my bags and my person, I made it to the waiting area. While trying to put everything back where it belonged in my ransacked bags, a woman approached me and complained that her bag was the same size as mine, but she had to check it. That just started me worrying again, but at least it took my mind off the impending flight. Eventually, I made it onto the plane, stowed my bag and we endured a short, but bumpy flight. With a good conversationalist to keep me company, I made it through the flight. There won’t be any funerals, yet. Thanks to a good friend and no thanks to a stranger who stuck her nose where it didn’t belong.
I use to love to fly when I was a kid too. Now it is different ever since I went crazy on a flight and got put on the watch list by the airlines, YIKES. Next time I fly I am certain an air marshall will sit next to me and Rick.