Taking It For Granted

When I met Jason--over 17 years ago--he had already ditched his engineering major and was knee deep in the aeronautical science program. (Think early morning classes and lots of studying...way more than I was doing I assure you!) Flying and airplanes were much more his passion and required much less math than an engineering degree, or so he claims.

One of the first times we “went out” he took me flying. I don’t know if he was just showing off or trying to get more flight hours (or both??), but I remember thinking, “When my mom finds out I’m in this little bitty plane with this guy, she’s going to kill me.” Thankfully, my mom didn’t kill me and even loved Jason, knowing long before I did that we would one day get married. I guess the part about the little bitty plane didn't bother her.

Looking back, I  remember being nervous about that first plane ride, but I also remember never doubting that we would land safely back on the ground.

Little did I know that plane ride would be my introduction into a life of aviation. Through the years, Jason’s held many jobs in the line of aviation...publication work, maintenance positions and even an airline job. Each job with their own risks of varying degrees. And now? He’s flying through the jungles of PNG. I never imagined back then that this is what he’d be doing or where we’d be living.

Over the years, as you can imagine, I have prayed countless prayers on his behalf. Prayers of protection for he and his co-workers, prayers for those he would come in contact with and my repetitive prayer for good weather. Each time the Lord has heard and answered those prayers, many times in ways I didn't comprehend or have knowledge of.

A few weekends ago, Jason flew a group to the coast for a Bible dedication. He was gone a couple of nights, nothing unusual for what he’s doing now. As he rolled up the driveway on his motorcycle Saturday afternoon, girls waving wildly at their dad, I was struck by how much I take his coming home for granted. Every day, he comes and goes, flying in and out of grass and dirt airstrips nestled inside green mountaintops, sometimes flying through clouds and storms, then driving home on a windy dirt road that has its own share of risks.

This scene of him rolling up the driveway, if I’m not careful, can turn into complacency and I can lose sight of it’s significance. I can get lost in my own day in day out shuffle, wrapped up in my own agenda, forgetting that my prayers have been answered once again.