Singing in a Storm

Posted on January 29, 2014 by Margaret

It’s no secret that much of our nation is enduring peculiar weather this winter, putting most of us in a deep freeze. Though we’ve known winters with occasional sub-zero temps or record snows, we’ve never known such extremes: in snow depths, expressway ice, sub-zero double-digits, and a winter start-date weeks ahead of schedule.

Last weekend when my plane made a harrowing landing in a blizzard (yesterday’s post), I saw an impressive sight on the ground: 15 (yes, 15!) plows and trucks waiting on the sidelines to move in for runway cleanup. Some had blades as wide as my living room.

Yet fifteen minutes after landing, we were reloaded and back at the end of the runway, ready to leave Pittsburgh for Chicago. Plows were sidelined but waiting at-the-ready to clear snow again. First, however, we were treated to a de-icing.

I’d never experienced that, and it was fascinating to watch two tank-style trucks move from plane nose to tail, dowsing us with chemical sprays that would make it impossible for ice to form on our wings (adding drag to take-off).

Our light-hearted flight attendant, already buckled into her jump seat, kept us focused on her one-woman comedy act as de-icing took place, bantering about it being much like a car wash. “But de-icing is better,” she said, “since the chemicals smell like pancake syrup. Enjoy the sweet experience!”

As we positioned for take-off, she surprised us again, belting out a song from start to finish: “Love will keep us together.” It wasn’t lost on her that 28 of us had been through an unnerving landing just a few minutes earlier, and she said she didn’t want us to turn against Southwest Airlines. She also knew that the same blizzard was still raging, and we were headed right back into those potholed skies.

They say attitude is everything, and though that isn’t a quote from Scripture, it is a biblical concept. Our stewardess helped us look on the bright side of a potentially dark situation much like God’s Word recommends we count our blessings no matter what’s happening around us.

But how do we maintain a sunny disposition when a storm looms? The only way is to stay close to the Lord throughout each day. It may sound Pollyanna-ish but is actually God’s specific instruction. Scripture says, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” (Romans 15:13)

He doesn’t ever want us to stop hoping for positive outcomes. Because he’s the God of hope, we can “abound” in it, if we partner with him. So when we’re threatened with an internal blizzard, we should think of that flight attendant singing her song as we headed into a storm, a reminder that we can face adversity with joy.

“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.” (James 1:2)

Panic Over Pittsburgh

Posted on January 27, 2014 by Margaret

Most people can count on one hand the moments in their lives when they’ve been terrified, heart-pounding scared, rushed with adrenalin. For me, one of them occurred last weekend.

I was flying home after two exciting weeks in Florida with my daughter’s newly expanded family of six.

Though I usually buy non-stop plane tickets, this time the route from Orlando to Chicago included a stop in Pittsburgh. I’d taken time to check Chicago’s wacky weather (not bad at 19 degrees and sunny) but hadn’t checked Pittsburgh.

After an uneventful flight north, our plane began its descent over Pennsylvania and suddenly hit a few rough bumps. The captain came on the intercom, telling us to be sure we were buckled in. “We’re coming into some choppy air,” he said in a calm voice, “and want you to stay safe. By the way, it’s snowing in Pittsburgh at minus-4 degrees.”

Then he instructed the flight attendants to buckle up, too, which seemed well ahead of their usual last-minute sit-downs. “Yes,” the head stewardess said, “tighten your belts. The captain wants to try something new.”

We laughed at her joke, but the plane’s rocking and creaking continued to escalate. Outside our windows we were wrapped in threatening black clouds, despite it being noontime. I tried to read, but my book wouldn’t hold still, bouncing up and down with force.

As we got closer to the ground, the lurching became more pronounced, and our captain came on again. “Ok, folks,” he said, still talking smoothly, “let’s double-check those seat belts. Pull your straps tight, low on the hips. We’ll be landing in a few minutes.”

I hoped on a runway.

As the plane shuddered violently and jerked every-which-way, I wondered how much more it could take before a wing would snap. Normally I loved take-offs and landings, but this time I found myself replaying the last thing I’d said to each of my children.

“This might be it!” I thought, adrenalin surging.

Staccato reflections darted in and out of my head as my heart pounded. “What a shame for our kids to lose their dad and mom so close together. I hope they know how much I love them.”

Suddenly we got a glimpse of the ground, and it seemed shockingly close. “Jesus, here I come!”

The flashing lights at the end of the runway shot beneath us and then boom-BOOM! Our wheels slammed down on a snow- covered runway just a few feet after the pavement began. “Wow!” I thought. “He barely got there!”

Billowing walls of snow surrounded us like a monster wake behind a high speed boat, and we zoomed all the way to the other end of the runway before he could rein in his speed. Passengers applauded, and the flight attendant said, “Welcome to Pittsburgh!”

As my insides began to calm, I thought about a statement Mom frequently made: “Be sure you know your bottom line.”

“Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Romans 10:13)

Back to Zero

Posted on January 26, 2014 by Margaret

Most of us think of zero as a big nothing. Emptiness. A non-entity. Blank. But in the last two weeks of staying with my daughter Linnea and her family, I’ve seen the immense value of zero.

Each night, just before the 3 older children (ages 5, 3, 1) had their baths, Linnea and Adam orchestrated a major overhaul of the house. Phase One included dinnertime clean-up of dishes, high chair, table, under-the-table, leftovers, and kitchen.

Phase Two incorporated the living room play area, sorting toys and putting them into their proper containers. It also meant vacuuming the carpet which somehow became cluttered with all manner of debris during a busy day.

Phase Three took place in the children’s bedroom where they all bunk together. Wall-to-wall toys, evidence of a day of creative play, had to be “binned” and lined up beneath the bed. Stuffed animals were gathered into a big plastic tub in the corner, and clean laundry was put into the proper drawers.

These 3 Phases sound complicated, especially since tired children are difficult to motivate, but the process is usually complete in 15 minutes. I watch and marvel as the whole house “gets back to zero.” It’s that magnificent zone of neat-and-tidy.

The people-parallel is obvious. Our lives can quickly get cluttered with debris of all sorts: the burdens of others we’re not meant to carry, unrealistic expectations of what we can accomplish in one day, over-commitment of our limited time or resources, anxiety over circumstances we can’t change. Everywhere we look we see disorder, and it can overwhelm us.

That’s when we need to initiate our own Phases One, Two, and Three. We can focus on the situation that bothers us most and start by tidying it up in small ways. We should think of it as working from the edges in, rather than redoing everything at once. By slowly tackling one area and then another and another, as time passes we can get back to zero-order in all the disorderly areas of our lives, freshening up our perspective.

At Linnea and Adam’s house, as we’ve sat together while the children slept, each night we silently appreciated a zero- cluttered house. In those precious moments, no one talked about how 3 imaginative children would be pulling out bins and baskets in a few short hours, leaving our orderly zero far behind. In those quiet, late evening hours, sitting in the midst of back-to-zero was deeply satisfying.