Do you remember the first time you flew in an airplane? I do like it was yesterday. Mostly because as I’m writing this on August 26, 2018 it was just yesterday I first defied gravity commercially.
That’s right. It took until I’m 57 years of age before I actually flew. I knew I’d enjoy the experience. I just never had a valid reason to fly anywhere because I enjoy driving so much.
But, when the offer came through for somebody else to not only pay for my ticket but also pay me to fly it seemed rude to say no. So I flew.
It all began Friday afternoon. I spent the week painting with the Apainter Paul. We were just beginning to clean up after completing a kitchen cabinet job when my phone chirped. It was the temp agency dispatcher.
Amber began with a twist in her voice by asking a question. “This may be an odd request, but will you be willing to possibly fly to Wichita and drive a truck back to Ft Worth?”
I later discovered the quirkiness of the request was because of the situation that led up to the truck being abandoned two states away. No, I can’t go into details here but trust me, it was quirky.
I have one major complaint to file with the companies that build planes. Why did you decide to put the windows even with the headrest of the seats?
I hoped I’d get a window seat. I did, just in front of the right wing. The only drawback was the kink in my neck from trying to see out the small window next to me. So where do I file that complaint?
This old farm boy enjoyed guessing at what crop was in each field I saw. The amateur meteorologist in me savored seeing the atmospheric changes as we flew in various conditions that included going over a thunderstorm. This experienced map reader loved guessing where we were by observing the rivers and various landmarks under me.
I told you I knew I’d love to fly.
This old country bumpkin had a couple of gate problems before I ever got in the airplane. The first one came when I tried to park Clifford, the big red van.
I arrived at the south parking lot and drove up to the contraption next to the bar that blocked entrance into the lot. I’m old-school enough to expect a paper ticket that I’d need to exit the same parking lot upon my return.
When the ticket thingy didn’t come out voluntarily I poked the button on the box. Nothing happened. Next I tried to scan the QR code on my phone under the area devoted to scanning such thingies. Still nothing.
Out of despiration this man poked the button requesting assistance from a real life person I couldn’t see. The voice sounded like Charlie Brown’s school teacher but about ten octaves higher.
She walked me through the same things I already tried before she asked a very astute question. “Is the gate up?”
That’s when I finally diverted my attention from the contraption that wasn’t working for me and discovered that the dilemma I thought I faced was already taken care of for me by the sticker I had on my windshield. Modern technology can be so confusing to an old country bumpkin most days.
It made me wonder how many born-again Christians are working their way to heaven when the price has already been paid by Jesus. It will be like they’re standing at the pearly gate reading through the list of accomplishments they did on earth only to look up and see Jesus holding the gate open for them. He’ll see familiar faces smiling at him. Jesus will say, “Welcome brother. We’ve been expecting you.”
The second gate I had trouble with was more important. The QR code I mentioned earlier had facts next to it that I thought would lead me to where I needed to go. Gate B43 was where I went after I cleared security because that’s where the thing I was sent said to go. When I got to that gate it said they were boarding for McAllen. Since I didn’t know how long each flight would take to board I figured Wichita would board after they left.
I began to get concerned when I was the only person sitting there waiting to fly. That’s when the gals at the boarding desk asked me where I was going. About that time the last boarding call came for Wichita at gate B18.
Yeah, I became one of those fools running though the airport trying to catch my flight before I was left behind. Fortunately, I didn’t have to hurdle over anybody or anything. When I got there the gal said, “You made it with 30 seconds to spare.”
“Good,” I replied. “I hate being late.”
That made me wonder how many folks are going to be where they were told they need to be after they die only to discover that it’s not at all where they thought it would be. By the time they discover that Jesus is the only way to heaven no amount of running will get them to the pearly gate in time because their time will be over.
When we took off the skies were clear and blue…or so I thought. As we climbed higher I noticed I couldn’t see as far out as before. When we reached our cruising altitude we were above the layer of haze, or whatever it is, we live in. That’s when the sky became true blue and the sun was brighter than ever.
That made me realize how polluted our lives actually are. Our souls are depraved at birth, so our view is always tainted. The lives of those around us are also obscured by sin and various experiences they’ve been through, so we might look better than some but worse than others. But, when we see Jesus our eyesight will be so clear we’ll realize how bad off we’ve always been.
Before we took off the pilot mentioned a line of thunderstorms between us and Wichita, but said it shouldn’t be of much concern. I watched the landscape below us as we traveled north. About twenty minutes into our hour-long flight some clouds appeared. Fifteen minutes later the clouds changed to those fluffy ones that look like cotton balls, especially from above I discovered. Some of them looked like you could jump out and land comfortably on top of them.
Then we flew through one of them. That’s when the turbulence began. Nothing to write home about, but in a blog post at least. A minute later we were back in clear skies and the announcement came that we were beginning our descent into Wichita, “so just leave your seatbelts on until we come to a complete stop, please.”
How many things in life appear to be safe when in actuality they turn out to be more turbulent than we ever thought they would be? That’s when faith in Jesus keeps a person grounded that no matter what happens in life we’ll get where we’re supposed to be in God’s timing.
Those are my observations from my first ever airplane ride. I don’t know when the next one will be. I just hope I handle those pesky gates better.
I’ll see you later. Wade
