Now that I’m safely back home, I can open up about the internal struggle I grapple with – my fear of flying. As someone who craves control in every situation, the mere thought of soaring 30,000 feet above the ground with someone else manning the controls sends shivers down my spine. Be it a plane, a car, a trolley, or a boat, if I’m not the one steering, I find myself on edge. This fear, for me, stems from a dual source.
Fear of Flying and Control:
Firstly, it’s the certainty that I can bring a vehicle to a halt if the need arises – whether due to a sudden brake from the truck in front or a meticulous lane change on the interstate. However, doubt creeps in when considering others’ driving habits. If I’m behind the wheel, I’m in command. If someone else takes charge, I’m left clinging to the “oh crap” handle until we reach our destination, frazzled and in dire need of a post-drive nap. The second layer of this fear is accountability. When I’m at the helm, any mishap falls squarely on my shoulders. While accidents are a part of life, I recognize that if harm befalls someone I care about under my watch, I harbor resentment toward the responsible party. To avoid this, I prefer being the one in control – the sole bearer of responsibility.
Living by this “must be in control” mantra, however, presents its challenges. Regardless of how meticulously I plan and strategize, there are aspects of life beyond my grasp. No amount of worry or overthinking can command the weather or alter the course of events. I cannot control nature’s whims, but I find solace in the belief that a higher power can.
As I alluded to earlier, my fear of flying overwhelms me. Regardless of the frequency of my flights, the weeks leading up to a trip see me meticulously researching the safest airlines, airports, and planes. I delve into news about lawsuits against airlines and ponder the mental stability of pilots. Even at the airport, I scrutinize TSA agents, questioning their integrity and decisions. Trust is a scarce commodity in my world.
People-Watching and Worst-Case Scenarios:
Seated at the gate, I engage in people-watching, attempting to discern who might be the quiet passenger and who could potentially cause trouble. I analyze facial expressions – looking for signs of fear, depression, or anger. Despite knowing the impropriety, I even find myself wondering about potential threats. If anything could go awry on a plane, rest assured, I’ve contemplated it and devised a plan of action.
During our recent trip, the conflict in Israel was unfolding, injecting a fresh layer of worry into my already anxious mind. Even though our destination was miles away from the turmoil, my thoughts spiraled into concerns about copycat terrorists. I eagerly awaited travel advisories and sought reassurance from a retired military friend, only to find myself unconvinced. My mind had conjured a worst-case scenario, overlooking the capable security measures in place.
A Journey of Faith and Perspective:
In my desperation for reassurance, I reached out to another person, desperately seeking a lifeline for my anxious thoughts.
Amidst the turmoil of the war in Israel, my friends found themselves on a Holy Land tour, capturing the breathtaking landscapes, historical Biblical sites, and local traditions that defined their captivating journey. When news of the conflict broke, a wave of prayer requests surged back home, urging for their safe return from the uncertain clutches of war. I reached out to express my prayers, and their response was immediate – a heartfelt thank you accompanied by an open invitation to call upon them if ever needed, despite their own uncertainties in a foreign land.
In the wake of their experience, and on the eve of my own trip, I sought counsel from Doug, curious about his perspective on flying amidst the global unrest. Our exchange unfolded like this:
Me: “Hey! We’re set to fly tomorrow, and truth be told, I’m a bit nervous with all the commotion in the world. Did you feel safe flying, even with all you had seen on your trip?”
Doug: “Gotta be honest with you; I would NOT be afraid to fly. Not to the Middle East or any country. Are you going out of the country? Or in the US. Praying for you!”
Me: “Lol. (I feel stupid now) I’m just going to Florida. I just know I can’t fight off a terrorist on a plane.”
Doug: “You can’t. But GOD can! Plus, call me if you EVER need anything.”
“You can’t, but God can.” What a profound statement! I realized I had omitted God from my travel plan. While I had certainly prayed for a safe journey, I had neglected to ask Him to take control of the situation. My ultimate safety plan lay in God’s presence on that plane, whether things went awry or not. He can dismantle evil when I cannot. I may not always shield myself in every situation, but God can.
The concept of “You can’t, but God can” seamlessly translates to recovery. In the darkest days of addiction, the thought “I can’t do this” often crept in. But I failed to remember, “God CAN.” While the desire to recover is crucial, with God, we gain the strength to combat addiction’s allure and focus on life’s essential priorities. We can’t overcome addiction solo, but with God, we can.
Embracing Community and Faith in the Journey to Recovery:
If your recovery feels like a solitary journey, it might be because you’re trying too hard on your own. Recovery isn’t a solo expedition; you need a support team, a caring family, and, most importantly, God. Faith in God provides hope when none seems present, love when you feel undeserving, and serves as your mightiest weapon against addiction’s shadows and deceit. You can’t conquer addiction alone, but God can.
If you’re grappling with recovery or don’t know where to start, reach out to us. Let us support you with the lessons we’ve learned on our own journeys. We grow better by making others feel better. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” – Philippians 4:13.