Who was crazy enough to fly out on a day so stormy and dangerous? Well, this girl but not by choice more by default! Yesterday Walda came barreling through the mid-west and my dear city Minneapolis was hit pretty hard and while the rest of the city hunkered down to take it on I took off for Atlanta. Did I mention that the weather service deemed travel "hazardous" on this particular day?

I've flown more times than I can count but yesterday was the first time I actually felt nervous and hesitant. If I didn't have plans I really wanted to make that evening I probably would have re-booked for today, but as it was I pushed through and did the "brave" thing and boarded the plane. My plane was initially on time but after waiting in line to be de-iced it was our turn and the captain came on the loudspeaker to inform us that the de-icing was underway and that they were looking at the numbers to see if we could make this whole take-off thing a reality today. Oh boy. That was not what I needed to hear. What if they miscalculated the numbers. As I pondered the last announcement I gazed out my window at the snowplow clearing off the snow covered runway...not a confidence booster.





About a couple minutes later the pilot came back on the loud speaker to announce that a take-off was in our near future. So into line we went and as we waited our turn for our delayed take-off I watch the planes in front of us take -off, for as far as I could watch, which wasn't far. Visibility? Oh it was VERY limited that day. I noticed that as the planes tried to gain speed down the runway that they kicked up so much snow it created its own mini blizzard in its wake.

After waiting a few minutes it was our turn to head down the snowy runway. I let go of all control I was holding onto and gave into the plane as it hurled down the snowy runway. As we lifted off the ground and jerked our way up, up, and away I watched the airport and precious ground get smaller and smaller and cloudier and cloudier. And then there was nothing but grey clouds. We were in the storm, surrounded completely. But yet we climbed, bumpy, and dipping, we kept going up, and up, to meet our goal.

And then through the hazy grey I saw it. The sun. At first it was an obscured circle and then within seconds it was a brilliant ball of light against a blue sky with a carpet of white clouds.


"Hello sun, you really are still here! I'm so glad you woke up this morning. I'm glad you are here even though I couldn't see you through the storm. I'm sorry that I let my circumstances question your existence, and your presence, your loyalty in that moment. I'm sorry I called you lazy, I'm sorry that I grumbled, and complained about you forgetting about me, accusing you of leaving me for a season. You are always here. You never change, you stay the same. Thank you for being here. No matter what." And at the sight of the sun, clear blue skies and smooth ride all fears of the raging storm below are gone. Just. Like. That.

Hello metaphor! Hello revelation! Thank you God, you are more faithful than the sun.