Friday, December 26, 2008


I don't think I'm alone in this, but I have days of deep discontentment. Sometimes it's something I've done, or more often, not done that discouraged me and sometimes it's unexplainable.

I don't believe in chance encounters or coincidences. I can't tell you how often I've left for work feeling downtrodden, only to discover God arranged me to fly with just the fellow flight attendant I needed to get my focus off myself and onto Him. I experienced one of these Divine encounters not too long ago.

We only did an Orlando turn together, but it allowed just enough "jumpseat therapy" to fill me up with a renewed assurance that God is lovingly in control and that nothing is impossible with Him.

I can't even remember her name, just her story. She had recently experienced what all of us hope never to experience: a passenger died on her flight. A woman and her daughter were returning from a trip to London, just the two of them. Sometime during the flight the woman told a flight attendant that she wasn't feeling well, maybe just indigestion? They offered up what they could to alleviate her discomfort, even offering to page for a doctor if they wanted her to. She didn't think it necessary and the crew didn't think much more about it.

This girl I was sharing a jumpseat with said the woman and her daughter weren't even seated in her section but when she was walking through the cabin and noticed the girl sitting by herself, she asked her how her mother was doing. The girl answered that her mother said she was feeling a little better, but she'd been in the bathroom for quite a long time.

Horrifyingly enough it was soon discovered she'd passed away in there. From that point on, this flight attendant never left this girl's side. When they arrived in Detroit she assured her she would stay with her, even ride in the ambulance with her to the hospital. When she was told she wouldn't be able to accompany her in the ambulance she remembered that she'd inexplicably driven from Grand Rapids rather than flying into Detroit. Her rare decision to drive meant she  had her car and could drive to the hospital! She was there in no time to take up her place again at the girl's side. She booked a room at a hotel and stayed there with her until her dad arrived from Wisconsin the following morning.

A week later and she was back at the airport to fly the same London trip. She was feeling down, still affected from the trauma of her last trip. She was especially feeling melancholy about turning her phone off and being incommunicado for the next three days. The phone rang just as she was getting it out to turn off.

Surprisingly, it was her brother-in-law from California. He called to relay a story he had just heard from one of his friends. He thought she would find it interesting. Turns out his friend's best friend had just lost his wife on one of our flights. When he finished giving her all the details (having no idea that she was actually on the flight), he said, "And this is the good part...God put an angel on that flight to watch over his daughter, this 'angel' never left her side until her dad got there...isn't that a sweet story?"

Only an awesome, all powerful, loving God could arrange all those details! She wasn't planning on driving to work that day, but when she dropped off her young son at school, she'd unfathomably decided she wanted to drive to work. Then, just when she was at her lowest point and just minutes before she turned her phone off, her brother-in-law calls her out of the blue because he'd just gotten off the phone with his friend and thought she'd find his story interesting.

What a much needed boost of encouragement and joy this sweet flight attendant received at just the right moment!

 A missionary once defined fellowship as making God larger together. That flight attendant certainly made God larger for me that day. God ordained, sweet fellowship. Does it get any better than that?

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

The beloved church I grew up in seemed to be more about what we stood against,  rather than what we stood for. It seemed we were more condemned for doing the wrong thing than encouraged to do the right thing.

Years later, I've realized that some of those "wrong" things weren't so wrong afterall. Turns out some of the rules were added on. Being judged hurts and the judgers get puffed up with a false sense of self-righteousness. It's a lose-lose.

Inform rather than enforce, that's that mindset we are encouraged to have at work. I'm sure we've all seen flight attendants that seem a little over zealous in their enforcement of the rules. They practically storm through the cabin, their eyes darting back and forth ready to pounce on the slightest infraction, even adding new rules of their own.

I was following (uselessly) behind just such an "enforcer" when she stopped at a row for no apparent reason. The passenger at the window seat was sleeping, completely oblivious to the fact that he was in violation of an FAA rule and regulation (and sadly, so was I). His seat back was in its upright and locked position, the tray table stowed, luggage stowed completely underneath the seat in front of him, electronic devices turned off...still, she was determined to wake him up and set him straight.

"Sir! Sir! Your window shade needs to be completely open."

He awakened with a blank look on his face, looking surprised that his window shade was even under his jurisdiction. He continued to stare at it dazedly until finally the guy on the aisle reached over and slammed the sliver of shade that was showing back into the slot and we were able to move on.

And pity the poor soul that has the audacity to jump up and use the lav after the boarding door has been closed. The "enforcer" flight attendant can't get on her P.A. fast enough, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready to depart, HOWEVER, we cannot do so until everyone is in their seat with their seat belt fastened."

Of course, at this point all the other passengers are cranking their heads around,eager to identify the inconsiderate clown that is delaying their flight. As much as the rule breaker would now like to stay in the lav, he eventually slinks out with his head down, doing his best to ignore the accusing, disdainful stares of his fellow passengers. Inevitably, we don't leave the gate for another ten minutes or so while they finish loading bags or some such and we end up mortifying the poor guy for no good reason.

It's not just the flight attendants that are concerned about the rule breakers, the passengers get just about as worked up when they think we've overlooked an offense. I was in the middle of the cabin doing my demonstration, when a man frantically began pointing out that another passenger was still using his cell phone. Nodding my acknowledgement of the fact, but intending to finish up the demo before attending to it was not good enough for this guy and he said accusingly, "You don't even care!"

Apparently, the only thing that would satisfy this guy was for me to stop everything and recognize that if it were not for his vigilance, and my quick response, we would not have been able to taxi safely to the runway. And of course, he expected my to profusely thank him for his "policing."

Recently a mature Christian asked us if we knew what Jesus taught about judging. Always wanting to be the star pupil with all the right answers, I racked my brain trying to remember all that Jesus had said about it...let's see, there's the whole plank in your eye thing, the lest ye be judged thing...

"Don't do it," he interrupted my little reverie, "that's what Jesus teaches. Don't do it. We're not equipped to judge. We don't have all the facts and we can't see inside hearts."

I've been reminded of that a lot in recent months. So simple. Just don't do it. A win-win.
I was just reading over my last blog. Was it just last week that I was feeling that way? Hopefully I didn't come across as "having it all together." Because if I did, it was a bunch of malarkey. I know none of us will be "arriving" (spiritually speaking) until Jesus returns for us, and there is nothing quite as off putting as being around someone who thinks they've "arrived."

We've been experiencing a particularly difficult time with Brett. Up until these past few months, he's been very happy and we have been very thankful. Lately though, he's been miserable--almost constant, frustrated screaming, inconsolable and unable to sleep for any long stretches of time. His seizures have increased in number and severity. And frankly, I couldn't being feeling any less like "God's workmanship" "prepared in advance" to be Brett's mother. On the contrary I'm feeling very ill-equipped for the job. I'm having trouble even imagining the purpose, joy and fulfillment I mentioned.

When I have these inevitable dark days, I know I need to talk Truth to myself more than ever, meditating on and trusting God's Word. I take enormous comfort from the fact that David had dark days. His psalms are full of his expressions of despair. But I see his resolve at the end of his cries to God for help, and that is what I know I must be: resolved. Resolved to trust in His goodness and faithfulness. In Psalm 13, David asks "...How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart...?"

He ends with, "But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, for He has been good to me." In Psalm 31: "Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief... " Again he ends with hope, "The Lord preserves the faithful...be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord." In Psalm 54 he writes: "I said, 'Oh, that I had the wings of a dove! I would fly away and be at rest.' But, I call to God and the Lord saves me...he hears my voice. ..cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you."

In Psalm 62, David reminds me where true rest and peace are found: "My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken."

As I was reading through the Psalms, I came upon the following verse and was encouraged with the reminder that He has not left us alone in this world, there are countless brothers and sisters in Christ that haved prayed for me and have greatly encouraged me. Only He knows how the prayers of His people have sustained me. "...the righteous will gather about me because of your goodness to me." (Ps. 142:7)

Resolving to remember, trust and meditate on His promises.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Sometimes we have passengers who may need a little extra assistance, perhaps someone blind, deaf or elderly.

I was once asked to help a down syndrome adult to his seat. As it turned out he was plenty capable of finding his own seat. I think he fancied himself a dapper business man, traveling like any other business man. He wore horn-rimmed glasses, a polo dress shirt buttoned to the top, khaki's and penny loafers. He carried an old-fashioned, hard-sided briefcase just like one my dad used to have. After he proudly found his seat, he sat down and plopped his briefcase on his lap. He officially snapped it open to reveal one lone item: a Nintendo Game Boy.

I couldn't help but smile, and I couldn't help but wish my third child was Down Syndrome. My own beautiful little boy is blind, severely mentally and physically impaired, and will never walk or talk or respond to us in any way.  If God was going to give me a special needs child, why couldn't He have given me someone like this? Someone happy, enthusiastic and, most of all, responsive?

I've learned how debilitating it is to compare, knowing it usually leads to a loss of contentment. It takes my eyes off of all the things for which I am thankful, and an ungrateful heart is a joy killer.

Many people experience shattered dreams, but Brett isn't just a shattered dream. He is an integral part of a larger story. God used Brett's part in our story to strengthen our marriage and deepen our dependence on Him.

Pain is an inevitable part of life. Without pain how would we know joy? Even those who seem to have it all in this life have a nagging feeling there is something more, because God set eternity in our hearts. (Ecc. 3:11) As Christians we know this world is not all there is, we know Jesus is preparing a place for us where there will be no more tears, sorrow or death.

But here on earth, stories are being played out and some roles are undeniably more difficult than others. There is no doubt in my mind Brett is perfectly fulfilling the exact role he was created for, not only in our story but in the stories of others as well.



Monday, November 17, 2008

I had a couple on my flight last night traveling with their sixteen month old son. He sat contentedly on his mom's lap watching Elmo. All was well. Alas, the battery on the DVD player died, causing the baby to have a complete melt down. He was horrified and started screaming, "Elmo!" "Elmo!"

I could just imagine the little guy's frustration...why weren't his parents doing what he said? Why, in heaven's name, were they doing just the opposite and putting the DVD away?

"Elmo!" he screamed with increased impatience.

He started throwing himself around in frustration, while his mother gently tried to explain that Elmo wasn't working and that they'd watch it as soon as they got home.

"Elmo!" "Elmo!"

She finally picked him up and brought him back to the galley.

He looked at me, his big brown eyes filled with tears, "Elmo," he said plaintively. Maybe he thought I could convince his parents to turn Elmo back on.

He had a little figurine clutched in his hand and hoping to distract him, I asked him who it was.

"Diego," he whimpered.

At least he'd stopped crying. I'm not familiar with any children's shows, so I hadn't a clue who Diego was and was at a loss for a follow up question.

At this point he put a chubby hand on each side of his mom's face, turned her face to him and said imploringly, slowly, "Elmo."

It was pitiful. He didn't understand why he couldn't watch it and he had a very limited vocabulary with which to make his case (remember, he's only sixteen months old). Though he did calm down, he never did give up trying to convince his parents to turn Elmo back on.

I am like that little boy sometimes. I can't understand why I can't have something. I can't see that there's a good reason, that God hasn't just arbitrarily decided not to give me my heart's desire. But I can trust that there is a reason. I can know that I have a loving Father that does not want to withhold any good thing from me. If we, as mere human parents don't want to withhold any good thing from our children how can we doubt the intent of He who is Love? (Mt. 7:7-12, Lk. 11:11-12).