Life at 10,000′

When I was in High School, my dad decided to take flying lessons which, of curse, ultimately led to his purchasing an aircraft.  It was a small, 4-place single-engine Piper Cherokee with fixed gear (which means there was one less thing to think about when it came time to land).   He loved flying and I enjoyed the opportunity to go with him.  When I started college, he flew me out to school which was very cool.

There are two ways to fly – not terrified or comfortable – but something known by pilots as VFR and IFR.  VFR means you are flying visual – you can see where you’re going whereas IFR indicates you are flying “on instruments” – basically using the huge, baffling panel in front of you to lead the way.  Not all pilots – my dad, for example – find it necessary to get an instrument rating.  This can cause issues in a marriage as I observed with my parents.  My mom was not crazy about flying with my dad.  She loved him and had all sorts of confidence in him – as long as they were on the ground.  Up in the air was another matter altogether and the last straw was a trip to the southeastern part of the country.  They started out in the little Cherokee, but inclement weather and  mere VFR rating don’t go well together.  That’s when they were forced to stay overnight along the way and the next morning found my mom on a commercial flight and my dad literally flying solo.  Not long after that he sold his plane. 

I have often thought of those days and that little plane.  We are now so used to flying in huge airplanes, we feel perfectly safe just by their mere size, not like a small aircraft which seems reminiscent of driving around in a so-called “smart car”.  Surrounded only by some fiberglass.

Most of us prefer to go through life VFR:  seeing what’s in front of us (though maybe not too far ahead) so that we can maneuver through each day at our own speed, according to our own plan and in our own strength.  We are not excited about wandering through the day IFR – on instruments – without seeing what’s in front of us or even around us.  Who would want to do that? We’re more comfortable “in control”.

The difficulty with flying on instruments is that what your body may be telling you may not be the same as what the instruments are telling you.  Your balance may indicate one thing and the panel in front of you is saying something else.  Who do you believe?  If you assume the instruments have gone wacko and you’re the one who’s right, it could easily turn out to be your last flight.  Life at 10,000′ means you have to trust what the instrument panel is saying.

How is this different from life on the ground?  It isn’t so different, really.  Some days the sun is out and we can at least see what’s in front of us.  VFR.  Life is a breeze.  That’s the time when we don’t think we need any help.  We’re fine, thank you.  Of course, a cloud can roll in at any moment.  A heavy fog can set in.  If we’ve never bothered to get our instrument rating, we’ll suddenly be grounded.  Stopped.  Stuck.  Have you ever noticed that the way God does things doesn’t always “feel right”?  It’s just not fitting with the way we think it ought to.  Something is “off”.  But, if you’re going to actually get anywhere you have to trust the Lord – your instrument panel – to lead the way.  He can see what you can’t.

“Trust in the Lord with ALL your heart and LEAN NOT on your own understanding…”   (Proverbs 3:5)