I was flying so-many thousand feet above land, on my way home from the Dallas ACFW Writer’s Conference, heart in my throat, praying something bad wouldn’t happen to the plane and I wouldn’t end up like a bug on a windshield in a cornfield somewhere. Up until last year’s conference I hadn’t flown in nearly twenty years and those little bumps of turbulence always seem like the pilot doesn’t have control of the plane, and being a control freak, that is not a good thing to me.
Am I afraid to fly? Um, well, kinda. It’s crazy, because when I was a little girl, my father would take me up in his Cessna, giving control of the yoke and rudder pedals to me, so I could soar toward the horizon and marvel at the patchwork of terra-firma below. I loved it and planned to get my license as soon as I came of age.
But somewhere along the way, I let fear take over. Fear I didn’t have when the yoke was in my own hands—I had control. I know it’s stupid to prefer myself in control (at no more than twelve years old) than to give it over to a pilot who is well trained, but that’s how my sometimes anxious mind works. So as I flew from Dallas to Baltimore, an even more anxious man beside me, the lyrics to this song came to mind.
Thank You, Jesus!
The song begins with Jesus’ words “Won’t you take this cup from me?” It reminds us of the agony Jesus felt with the knowledge he’d soon give over His body to the torture of those who despised Him. Talk about lack of control … and for someone who has the ultimate power to possess it. This terrified Him to the point He sweat actual blood. And still, he continued on, submitting to the will of His Father in heaven. Why? So that we would be washed of sin and saved for eternity.
The song goes on. Not as Jesus, but as a singer and songwriter who wants to live as Jesus did, in the way the Father has marked out for him. It reminds us that we all have a cross to bear and a life to give. Each path will be different, but if we follow the will of the Father, lives will be saved.
When I look at what Jesus suffered, my own fears seem inconsequential. He gave so much. My small fear of flying can be overcome, in order that I walk the path He set before me. It’s the least I can do for the One who gave me life. So I carry on. I guess I’ll fly again.
What fears do you need to overcome for Him?
Other posts you might like:
Sacrifice—No Greater Love, by Rachel Poole