I love flying on stormy days. Despite the threat of
delays and some stomach rattling turbulence, there is an experience to be had
on these glim days that refreshes my soul. The first time this experience
occurred, some type of audible expression chocked out of me that I quickly
swallowed back as to avoid the questioning eyes of fellow travelers, as if they
were concerned with anything more than their own future destination.
As I sat on the plane, thinking about the events ahead of
me, my thoughts swirled between the things I needed to get done at home,
worries for Katie taking on the responsibilities of the household on her own,
and the tasks ahead of me at my final destination. The plane’s engine grew
increasingly louder, making it difficult for me to concentrate on a single
thought, and a clear plan for moving considerations into actions began to
escape me.
As the small regional jet took flight, it rattled as if
my son was holding the plane in his hand while the passengers inside waited to
understand how the story in his head would play out. Struggling to break though
the heavy clouds pounding the vessel with steady pellets of rain, you could
sense the anxiety from the less travelled passengers growing with every drop
and rise in altitude.
Just when the feeling that the darkness and trembling
would remain with us for the duration of the journey set in, the plane’s nose
began to break the thick layer of dense, dark, moisture, and we are set free from
its weight. Through my small window to the outside world bursts a brightness
that pierces my thoughts, pulling me in to its beauty as it pushes down the
black to expose a penetrating blue resting on a soft blanket of billowing
clouds. From me, escapes the sound of settling in to my warm bed next to my
wife, and often my children, after days on the road.
Our lives are constant storms. Even in the happiest of
times, we are unable to fully experience the love that surrounds us because of
an anxiety hidden deep within us that is distraught over not knowing what will
happen next. The clouds of apprehension linger above us, blocking the sun from
shining upon us and renewing our faith that tomorrow brings hope. The beauty in
my trivial experience is the understanding that the sun is always a short
distance above the extremely penetrable, vaporous, wall of darkness.
“So may the sun, rise, bring hope where it once was
forgotten.” - Sam Beam
