But then we landed in Belize City and I saw the “hopper” plane. I was thinking something like an American Eagle sized plane, and honestly, I avoid those at all costs. I could have cried when I saw this plane. It was so much smaller and so much worse than I expected.
It had propellers, people!
So. Much. Worse.
Okay, I thought to myself.
“Maybe we can skip the plane and just take the boat?”
“Surely they will cancel these flights since it’s raining?”
But we were too late to change to the boat option. The airline already had our bags. I was going to have to fly.
These tiny planes were taking off in between rain storms and I was scared.
My fear and worry grew exponentially when we boarded our tiny 10-seater plane, squeezing 13 of us inside, including Jeffrey in the co-pilot spot. Don’t worry, there was a sign that said “Passengers are not permitted to touch the flight controls” in case you thought that Jeffrey was actually the co-pilot.
“Well, I lived a great 46 years. We have life insurance so Jake will be set for life”, I thought.
I began to scan my memory bank for titles such as “Family dies in commuter flight in Belize”. Was that a thing I read?
I just started to pray...and not pee my pants...as we took off from the runway with my husband as our co-pilot.
Oh, wait! Jeffrey had flown in his Granddad’s small plane 45 years ago. Is it like riding a bike and he could pick it back up like James Bond? Did he actually know how to fly or did his granddad just make him think he did? Was there the same sign in that cockpit?
A million thoughts...I know. But when you are sure you are about to be shark lunch, your mind wanders.
Flying into the dark clouds (not even kidding), this 15 minute flight felt like an eternity. A minute felt like a day.
No worries that the pilot kept checking his Instagram feed and the radio he was using was a Motorola walkie talkie. Or that he turned around to give me a thumbs up.
My body was stiff. My stomach was a wreck. Thank goodness for the sea bands I wear for motion sickness (which may or may not be a placebo. Ha.)
When the pilot came back on the loudspeaker (which sounded like he was Crocodile Dundee on an amazing adventure...MATE!) and said it’d only be 3-4 more minutes, my body finally started to calm a bit...until the landing. Have you ever seen a paper airplane land? It reminded me of that. Not a nose dive but a swaying from side to side until we gently touched ground.
When in the air, I thought, “I’m going to need a DRINK when I land!”
That’s when it hit me. Why do I need some sort of drink to calm my nerves?
Why do I need the perfect seat or the perfect plane or no turbulence or some kind of distraction in order to fly when my God says he will provide our perfect peace?
HE is my peace and no matter what happens in my life, ultimately I end up with Him in heaven. That should give me great comfort even on a “hopper” plane to Ambergris Caye, Belize.
Obviously, we made it otherwise I wouldn’t have written this blog post. And it’s been a wonderful, restful time with my family.
So what about you?
Are you afraid of flying?
What helps calm your nerves and bring you peace?
