Several years ago, my sister and her family who live near Boston, Massachusetts were planning a trip to Utah. My then two year old nephew was so excited at the thought of flying across the country. He pulled a roller suitcase around their home and took it out to the car, ready to go on this journey. They boarded the plane, took off, and about ten minutes into the flight, he announced, “I get off now!” The flight was not the experience he anticipated. He was strapped into a seat, unable to move at will and it was so much longer and more uncomfortable than he wanted it to be. I feel that way sometimes as I face certain challenges and I want to call, “I get off now!” Yet, every challenge is a chance to take a journey to a new place to learn and grow.
As my sister was planning to visit, we were grappling with my dad’s stomach “issues” when a biopsy came back showing cancer cells growing in his stomach, killing the tissue and creating a “giant” ulcer. Her visit coincided with his surgery to remove half of his stomach. No one likes to hear the word cancer and I still don’t but through the process of his surgery, chemo and recovery, I spent many sweet days with my dad on drives to the hospital where we often spent time sitting and waiting. My siblings and I connected in a different way as we tag teamed our efforts to provide Dad and Mom with the support they needed. One early morning, I was in the waiting room while Dad had a PETscan. I was the only one there until a woman walked in, clearly anxious. We began to talk and in that waiting room, I put my arms around a complete stranger. Our shared experience connected us in a way nothing else could. Blessings come even and especially in difficult days.
So often, when our experiences are not what we anticipate, we want to call out, “I get off now!” but that thought does not help us see the vision of where this uncomfortable journey may be taking us. Staying on the plane was the safest, most effective way to get my nephew where he was going and though it was uncomfortable for him, the pilot knew exactly how to get him there. “I testify that you are beloved. The Lord knows how hard you are trying. You are making progress. Keep going. He sees all your hidden sacrifices and counts them to your good and the good of those you love. Your work is not in vain. You are not alone. His very name, Emmanuel, means, ‘God with us.’ He is surely with you.” (Sister Sharon Eubank, April 2019). Jesus Christ is our pilot. Though we may not see Him, or understand the flight path, He is with us and taking us to our destination.
Thank you for recording this story! I had nearly forgotten!!!