God is the Pilot of My Life

I don’t fly often. I fly so infrequently that this past July when I boarded a plane bound for Texas, and then back home again, it was the first time I had set foot on one in over a decade.

When you experience something that’s a major rarity for you, it doesn’t come second nature. You are painfully hyperconscious of every minute detail of the situation. So suffice it to say I was a little unnerved when, only a few minutes after we boarded the return flight, the captain forewarned us all that we would undoubtedly be facing “quite a bit” of turbulence.

I’m not scared of flying, but I don’t know it. It isn’t something I fully understand and therefore I can only rely on the word of the people in charge. The captain says we’re looking at a turbulent ride? I am tightening my seatbelt and gearing up for a turbulent ride.

He was right. The ride started off bumpy and never let up. At one point, the flight attendants loaded up their carts to start drink service, but by the time they had reached the front of the plane, the captain called over the speaker, “Flight attendants to your jump seats immediately.”

Each time I looked out my window, all I could see was gray. The clouds were thick and never-ending, and rain droplets gathered on the windows running and rolling away as we sped through. Occasional thunder and lightning shook from afar.

I looked around at my children. The baby was in his car seat, sleeping peacefully. My toddlers were also buckled into car seats and enjoying a Disney movie next to my husband. My oldest sat beside me, playing a video game. For a brief second, my stomach felt uneasy. Because who would worry for all of us, if not me?

After studying my family, I looked back out the window. I thought to myself, How can he see where we are headed? What stops us from colliding with another airplane? What keeps us on course? Will we get above this? And when?

Nearly immediately, God met me there. I felt calm rush over me, and I was moved to tears. I didn’t need to know the answers to the questions. I had put myself and the people I love most in the world onto this plane with faith in the pilot. I didn’t need the answers to the questions because the pilot knew what he was doing. I also could sit back and relax without distress because he had it under control. There were no other options. There was no room for worry because I was along for the ride, and worry offered nothing but discomfort.

It was the captain’s job to get us out of that storm, and he was in control. From my seat, with no knowledge whatsoever of how to fly this vessel, I had nothing to offer except my unencumbered trust. The pilot knew where we were headed, and he had all the tools to execute his role.

“God, you are the pilot of my life,” I whispered with little sound. This moment felt like complete and utter surrender. This minute felt monumentous. Wasn’t it true? Each day I can’t see where I am going, and I have no idea what things look like ahead of me. I don’t know what is to come on the course and when it will all unfold, but I believe that God does. He knows what He is doing, and He promises us that even though it may be bumpy, He’s got a handle on it. All we have to do is have faith. He will see me through the clouds and haze. He will deliver me to my destination. I place my family in His hands.

I tend to think that the Holy Spirit helps weave these cathartic moments of ours into the circumstances we find ourselves in. A flight, a storm, a fearful feeling—all these things were spun and utilized to form this holy pause of worship right there in that seat. Whether it felt like a cheesy cliche for me to declare God the highest pilot or like a simple-natured phrase of praise, it was accurate. I couldn’t have experienced this revelation without experiencing this flight. If we look around each day, He reveals Himself to us in ways like this often. We only need to be open to His presence.