When I first considered this topic I was surprised at how long ago I’d “jumped from a perfectly good airplane.” Like all things, as I get older I notice the things from “years ago” have become “decades ago.” Imagine - I’ve spent more than half my life now AFTER getting my college degree!
Enough of that. Back to skydiving.
Part of the training for that activity is to climb in the plane, get a walk-through of the process, and then practice over and over again. Being the . . . heaviest . . . of the class, I was placed toward the front of the small plane. That’s nearest the center of lift, so my sudden departure wouldn’t alter the aerodynamics as much.
The instructor went through the motions of hooking my non-existent static line to a clasp in the plane, then opened the side door. Since the plane wasn’t moving, there was no wind, or anything else associated with a flying aircraft. I grabbed the wing strut, and “hand-to-handed” out to about the mid-point of the strut. When there I looked at the instructor. He pointed at me, and I let go, miming falling behind the plane.
We did that over and over and over, seemingly forever.
The time came, however, to do it for real. The plane climbed, the instructor hooked my now-real static line to the clasp, and opened the door. Yes, I reached out and took hold of the strut and swung my feet out. Hand-to-hand I moved away from the body of the plane and looked at my instructor.
He pointed.
I fell.
The parachute opened and I floated to Earth. No big deal, really, because I’d practiced. Sure, it was exhilarating, but none of us froze up because we’d done it on the ground so many times it was like second nature.
The same thing happens when you live your life for Christ. “How do you get to Carnegie Hall? PRACTICE.” How do you learn to trust Jesus, pray, be thankful and compassionate and generous? Practice.
When I first let go of that airplane there was that moment of thrill, but I knew the instructor had done this before with countless people. Those who packed the parachutes were well-versed in how to do that. That school had never lost a student.
Thank Him for the simple things - the ones that seem like He has nothing to do with. The very definition of common grace is the stuff everyone gets. Heartbeat? Check. Ability to hold a fork and feed yourself? Check. Eventually you get to the point where you’re thankful for more difficult times.
In April I lost my job of twenty-eight years. Well, it was two week short of that, but I won’t quibble if you won’t. I’d been trusting Jesus and thanking Him for long enough I wasn’t worried. (Radio revenue is dependant on advertising. With the COVID lockdown, advertisers saw little point in buying ads for a business that couldn’t open. Staff had to be cut, and eventually that meant me.)
Week after week I was unemployed. It turned out to be some of the best time in my life, despite the backlog of unemployment claims preventing even a single dime heading my way for months on end.
Eventually I did pick up a new job. At my initial interview my soon-to-be-boss said I was a better for another role. “Let me think this over. I’ll get back to you.” Before I even got home I had a text message from him. Second interview and hired that very day.
Trusting in God can be scary at times. There’s that moment when you have to let go of the wing strut and trust that the parachute was packed right. That’s not a blind, wishful thinking trust. God has a history of knowing what He’s doing, and it’s a longer record than the folks who pack parachutes.
The first step is going to skydiving school - church. Learn the mechanics of “jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft.” Keep your eyes the One who knows what’s going on.
Trust Him.
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