Saturday, August 18 2018 - 4:00 PM
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I Don’t Like Flying

Dear God: I know I’ve prayed about this five times already—but they just called our row! It’s time to board. And I can’t help it: I just am always nervous about flying. I know it’s safer than driving over to Costco, but what comfort does that give me? Two cars got totaled over there just last month.

If I knew that Captain “Sully” was our pilot, that would help . . . but for all I know, today’s crew spent last night partying until the wee hours. Or moonlighting at a Wendy’s, and now they’re half asleep on the job.

Please give me a sense of your presence this morning, and a renewed feeling of trust that all of your children are safely in your hands. I’m a part of your cosmic plan, and if you have a future agenda for me to fulfill, then these jet engines and sturdy wings will keep me soaring safely above the fray. And if your work for me is done, I guess that’s all right too.

Thank you for the myriad of times you protected me when I was too self-absorbed to even ask or notice. Someday I’ll get to read my guardian angel’s log book and truly marvel at how heaven’s invisible armies intervened on my behalf.

Talk to you later. (And our pilot just walked past—he does look like a very nice man.)

In Jesus’ name. Amen.

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About David B. Smith

David B. Smith

writes from Southern California.

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