They probably call it ‘white-out.’ We were up
there in a ridiculously tiny plane, totally engulfed in white cloud. We
were utterly dependent on the expertise of the young man in the pilot
I felt as though some one had typed me into the cloud and then gone over me with a bottle of liquid paper, blotting me out of existence.
A couple of severe lurches soon convinced me that no matter how mush no one else knew I was around, I still knew!
We four passengers looked at each other with eloquent grimaces. We couldn’t talk because of engine noise but we were still very much us and we didn’t like being shaken around.
We were comforted by the pilot’s quick look around, his smile and the raised eyebrows that signalled the question, “Are you OK?” We smiled back affirming we were OK and that, while ever he was in charge, we were 100% with him, till death us do part!
Nine thousand feet up there aren’t any choices anyway so we couldn’t take much credit for our loyalty. We simply had no options.
The only thing we could control was our attitude. We could choose to huddle up in misery; we could choose to clench our fists at fate or the pilot; we could throw a temper; or we could make life as miserable as possible for everyone else.
Thinking back, we had lots of options. I am glad we chose to be 100% with the pilot and grin back in our discomfort ‘we are OK.’ It made his job a little easier.
Jesus once said, Matthew 12:30, ‘He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters.’ Perhaps our 100% can make His job a little easier, too.