Grounded by the Light
Stranded far from home, our scheduled day of departure is slapped with severe weather that grounds all flights. Hours of airport hanging, negotiating with the ticket agent, net us only a rebooked flight tomorrow. Day One in the books.
Day Two we now know how this state spurs population growth. They lure you with fried catfish, hushpuppies and new-wave frozen yogurt stores sporting more spigoted, serve-yourself choices than a Midwestern sow offers her starving piglets. The soft-spoken locals conspire with the airlines to hold you hostage until you send home for your things and settle down there.
A power outage at a distant airport that feeds us planes means our flight is scratched. Back to the rental car and hotel counters. Can you say, "Day Two?"
Day Three dawns under a tornado watch as we rock 'n' roll up into the wild, blue bumpy. At last, 31,000 feet, and we're aloft on our change-planes-twice, return flight. So far, lift-offs and landings feel like we've been taking fire from enemy MIGs, and suddenly "air traffic controller" is an oxymoron.
Despite the unfriendly skies, God wraps us with a palpable peace as we remember Jesus saying, "Let not your heart be troubled." Paul writes, "Don't be anxious about anything," adding, "I have learned to be content in whatever state I find myself." (Even the states in Tornado Alley?)
Just think of all the lightning bolts, wind shears and overshot runways we may have missed. And, oh yes, that yogurt store.