I hate flying.
This is unfortunate because I simply love seeing and experiencing new sites and places. Viewing them in a book or watching them on the History and Travel Channels simply doesn't satisfy me as much as I'd like them to. How I've dreamed of visiting places such as Italy, Japan, Scandinavia, Britain...the list goes on. I have a good friend in California who's wanted me to come visit, and I'd love to, but I'm afraid of taking the quick route by buying a plane ticket (not to mention I'm kind of broke, but I digress). Why won't I do it? Because I have a fear of flying.
Initially, I used to think flying was fantastic. I used to love sitting by the window in my younger years, watching the various landscapes beneath me as I soared high above them. I would look for city landmarks as we went in for landings. I would occasionally take a nap in the chair while winding down from my youthful elation. That doesn't happen anymore.
When I'm on a plane now, the term "white-knuckled" describes me completely. It takes so little to get me to grab my seat and hang on for dear life. I'll eat food nervously, hoping to finish as quickly as possible so that the plane won't jump, causing the tray to hit me in the gut, as this will most likely cause me to get a tad sick. Because of the rush of adrenaline, sleep isn't even close to being an option. I know what you're thinking, "Man, you're such a coward." Well, you're probably right.
Is it the fact that terrorists highjacked airliners and caused one of the most infamous moments in American history? Perhaps a little bit, but my fear had been growing before this. Is it because whenever there's a report on television regarding a plane crash and pointing out that there were no survivors? Ever? I won't lie and say that probably affects my psyche about it, but again, that's not the real reason. Is it because of the horror stories that news magazines report regarding the horrendous food they serve to those in coach? Well, no. I think anyone who's eaten at Taco Bell can stomach the idea of consuming whatever the airlines serve.
There are actually two real reasons. The first is turbulence. I hate turbulence. The idea of the seemingly enormous contraption I'm flying in can be tossed around like a plastic bag in water makes me very uncomfortable. The falling, then rising, then falling, then tipping, then diving....dear Lord, I'm getting tense just thinking about it. It gives yet another impression of just how small we are, and the feeling that no matter what we create, it's still tiny, and it would take nothing more than a little gust of air to snuff it out.
The other reason that remains prominent is the fact that I have absolutely no control as to what's going on. My life is in the hands of another, leaving me to remain idle and no be able to do anything to protect myself. I have to trust somebody else, a stranger, to keep my flame on God's candelabra lit. I hate not being in control of my own life, and this is another thing I must sacrifice for the sake of convenience.
After sitting and pondering this for a time, I realized something very interesting: My fear of flying is equivalent to my fear of God. Turbulence. Life itself is a constant stream of turbulence, as it takes so little to blow a person off course. Just look at the life I've lived up until now. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I expect to fall in love at 17, only to have her die merely three years later. Never did I expect to be a student back in college, just about to complete his AA degree, while just about to hit 25, and working towards a teaching degree. Never did I expect to want to return to the church. Never did I expect to be living with my parents again at my age (although I DID expect to not be particularly happy with it, as is the case). Life is an extremely unpredictable game, and one's fate can change with a simple choice.
With wanting God's grace, I must relinquish control. Not entirely, mind you, as my life is a gift, and I wish to live it for myself, as is His will. But it's no longer something I have to live alone, and that frightens me. It makes me feel trapped, like I must do things to please another, rather than pleasing myself. However, the idea in question is translating God's feelings, God's love, God's grace into my own life. His love for me, my love for Him; His direction for my life, my usage of this direction to supplement my life.
I made a very difficult decision to come here, as I've seen myself as forsaken for my lack of abeyance for many years. I didn't want to belittle the Human Spirit. I didn't want to worship any sort of deity. I wanted to live a life free of boundaries and restraints, as I saw religion in the past.
Now, all I really want to do, is fly.
- Music:8 Stops 7 - Good Enough