When The Sky Falls
The news of the Learjet crash in Florida this week hit me differently than it might others. As a pastor, I think about the eternity of those who lost their lives. As a pilot, I think about what it means to think I’m in control
of an airplane thousands of feet in the air, but knowing that the margin between an ordinary flight and an unimaginable tragedy can sometimes be frighteningly thin.
Life is far more fragile than we usually think.
None of those nine had a clue as to what was about to happen just minutes before the tragedy unfolded.
As pilots, we prepare for the unexpected. As Christians, we learn to trust God
in the midst of it. And as human beings, we are reminded that tomorrow is never guaranteed.
From a pilot’s perspective: We do everything we can to prepare thoroughly before every flight. We research multiple sources for existing and forecasted weather. We go through an extensive checklist on the condition of the airplane. We research airports along the flight path in case of unforeseen difficulty. We even assess our own health and mental state before accepting the risk of
taking off.
But even with all that preparation, we cannot eliminate every risk. There are potentially unforeseen risks with every flight, much like there are every morning we get out of bed.
That’s life. As much as I think I’m in control when I’m in the cockpit, I’m gliding through air currents, at the mercy of weather and mechanical dependability. And as much as you may think you are in control of your life, you are at the mercy of your beating heart, not to mention every other driver on the road. Life is risky no matter how you live it.
From a pastor’s perspective: I think about eternity. Did these people, who moments before did not know they were about to die, prepare for that moment by embracing the One who gave His life so that they could be saved?
From a Christian perspective: Our hope is not that tragedy will never happen, but that our lives are held by God—even when we cannot understand what
He allows.
Perhaps the most valuable lesson of this terrible tragedy is that we should stop living as though we have an unlimited supply of tomorrows. We don't.
As a pilot, I know that every flight requires a measure of trust. As a pastor, I know that every life ultimately requires it. We can prepare for the journey, but we cannot control every outcome.
What we can do is live faithfully today, love the people God has in our lives, and place our confidence in the One who holds both today and ever after.
