I drove to work under low gray clouds and yet another downpour. Our city is collectively praying we all dry out soon.
As my car turned northward over the high overpass, I watched a jetliner glint in the sky ahead. I’m used to seeing airplanes so near the airport on this turn, but this one caught my eye. The jet appeared to effortlessly slice through the storms and heavy clouds as he began his final descent into the city. It was beautiful to watch.
Yet I know, from years of spring travel, that those traveling on the inside of those airplane walls have an entirely different experience. They’ve watched their mode of transport move closer to the lightning bolts. As they move into a stormy and windy city, the airplane tosses them about such that even the most seasoned traveler’s stomach lurches into her throat and her fingers tighten around the armrest.
They make it to the ground safely, and the traveler knows that they almost certainly will, but the physical reaction to the storms around her can’t be stilled. While the outsider, watching from the safety of the ground, admires the beauty and power of the jetliner against the stormy skies.
This is a big week for us.
That’s what I thought as I watched that plane this morning.
There will be good that’s going to happen, so any spectator watching from the ground will probably just think we’re all doing grand despite the storms.
You see, on Friday, the love of my life and I will celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. And oh there’ll be a post devoted just to that later this week.
Also, I have a big speaking engagement Friday too. I’m excited but still preparing and hope I find the exact right message to bring.
It’s Mother’s Day on Sunday too. My mom has been sick, so we’re all just praying she’s back to 100% by this weekend.
But then, there is hard. We’re in the thick of the storms too.
This is our last week with our nanny. Maria has been with us since the week before I went back to work in January 2010. That’s six and a half years. She’s like family, and even though it was time for this new phase, we’ve all been a little weepy.
Then, the kids school wraps in a couple of weeks, and since they’re moving to a new place next fall, it’s like we’re losing family there too.
Plus, I’m coming to grips that the kids will be at the farm a lot this summer with dad which is awesome for the kids but hard on this mom who has an intense work season ahead and won’t see them almost every night like I have for six and a half years. And my husband is in a new season and our family is moving into a new season and there is a WHOLE LOT OF CHANGE.
I have such kind people who speak encouraging words to me when I meet them about how much they admire our family or are impressed by something they’ve seen me do like speak or write or lead or whatever.
But I’ll tell you, it may look like that plane is effortlessly flying through storms, but on the inside of that plane is fear and sadness and worry and uncertainty and, sometimes, a wee bit of panic.
I know we’re going to land safely. But it doesn’t make me clutch the armrests any less tightly.
I also know that sometimes, “it is the Lord who sends the thunderstorms” (Zechariah 10), and sometimes, “He stills the storm to a whisper… and [we] were glad when it grew calm, [because] he guided them to their desired haven.” (Psalm 107)
Photo courtesy of The Guardian