Broken Wings and Other Scary Things

I’m leaving on a rare, unheard-of trip tomorrow without my family.  It’s basically a traumatic experience for all involved. Especially me.  Tonight I tucked the kids into bed, and I prayed with them about the next few days, that God would watch over our family while we’re apart, and help the kids to enjoy their time with their daddy and their granny.  Just as I said, “Amen,” Sawyer grinned and said, jokingly, “Don’t die on your trip, Mama.”

Adelade immediately bristled at the mention of death, when she knows that I’m getting on an airplane.  I laughed and said, “Well, I’m going to try not to, Sawyer.”

He grinned some more.  “Well, you never know,” he continued, “a wing could break off of the plane and then it could crash.”  I smiled at the little toot.  “It’s actually much safer to fly in a plane than ride in a car,” I informed him.

I kissed them both and left the room when I really wanted to lie there with them all night, holding onto my babies and wallowing in the fact that tomorrow night I’ll be absent during their bedtime routine.

But, they need sleep.  And, I need to pack.

It’s only a few days of life.  But, when I live here, writing endlessly about the significance of every single moment, I must admit that the thought of missing out on their lives for even a short time leaves me feeling lonely.

And then there’s the whole possibility of a fiery plane crash.  Many thanks to Sawyer for that visual.

I know that little man, and the way his mind works.  He joked about my dying because he’s scared.  I gave him extra hugs and kisses, and I took in that precious grin of his, and I did what Christian people must do every single day of their lives.  I gave him and his sisters and my sweet husband and the great unknown of every single day over to the God who loves us.

I’m not actually afraid of a plane crash happening tomorrow.  But, I have my fears.  Boy, do I have ’em.  And, each time a new one crops up, I do what I learned to do in the sixth grade.  I lay them at the foot of the cross of my Savior, and I trust that whether my worst fears ever come true or not, He will be there.  He will see me through.  And, He will see my freckle-faced darlings through, too.

So, tomorrow, I step out of my oh-so-comfortable routine, and I step one trembling foot onto the path that God seems to be putting before me.  And, He will go with me.  One step at a time.