I trust you, O Lord. I said, “You are my God.” My future is in your hands. [Psalm 31:14-15a (GW)]
By the time our son was seventeen, he had his pilot’s license. To log solo flight time, he’d often fly from his school in another state to a small airport near our home. We’d meet him there and enjoy lunch together before he returned. Sometimes, he’d take one of us up for a short flight over the scenic countryside before he flew back to school. I don’t even like commercial flights on a jumbo jet with a seasoned pilot so getting on a single-engine Cessna with a teenager at the controls was a leap of faith for me. Nevertheless, when I’m on a plane, I have to leave the flying to those far more skilled than I—even when it’s a seventeen-year-old! Reassuring myself that there was less my son could hit in the air (while trying to forget that safely landing a plane was probably more difficult than parallel parking), I surrendered control to him and trusted that he knew what he was doing.
God is my Co-Pilot is the title of a 1945 film based on the World War II exploits of Robert Lee Scott, Jr. That title eventually became a Christianese catch-phrase and still can be found on bumper stickers today. While a charming sentiment, it is theologically incorrect. If God is our co-pilot, we’re in the wrong plane! There are no dual controls in God’s plane and He doesn’t want us touching the yoke or messing with the rudder pedals. God is neither our assistant nor are we His. He’s not the passenger on our plane; we’re the passengers on His. We don’t belong anywhere in the cockpit; we belong back in the cabin. He has a flight plan specifically designed for each of us and we have to trust that plan to Him.
While it’s easy to trust in God’s sovereignty and cede the controls to Him when the journey is smooth, it’s much harder when turbulence occurs or it begins to storm. I’ve had some bumpy (and frightening) flights, especially over the mountains in summer, but I never barged into the cockpit to take charge nor did I don a parachute and bail out. Trusting the captain, I surrendered control to him, buckled up, prayed, and let him do his job.
Unfortunately, it’s difficult for me to admit that I’m no better at running my life than I am at piloting a plane. While I’m willing to trust a complete stranger to pilot me safely home in the midst of a storm, I often bail out or push into the cockpit of life and try to seize the controls from God at the first sign of turbulence in life. The end result is that I crash and burn and God ends up being rescue squad, fire department, clean-up crew, and salvage expert. Trust and obey is really all God asks of us, and yet we often try to do His job for Him.
Heavenly Father, forgive us for the many times we try to wrest control of our lives to go in another direction than the one you planned for us. As Creator of the Universe, we concede that you are far more skilled at plotting the best route, keeping us on course, and handling all the storms, unruly fellow travelers, engine problems, and fuel shortages that trouble our days. Secure in your love for us, we know that you want us to have a safe landing. You are the captain—the pilot of our plane. Trusting in you, we are your passengers awaiting your orders.
When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer. [Corrie Ten Boom]
Every year, Britain’s The Oldie magazine celebrates the achievements of the “older generation’ by granting their “Oldie of the Year Awards.” According to the magazine’s founder, Richard Ingrams, it’s not enough for someone simply to be an “elderly achiever”—you also must show that you still have “snap in your celery.” This year, wanting to recognize Queen Elizabeth II for her leadership during the pandemic, the magazine offered her the honor of being their “Oldie of the Year.” The 95-year-old monarch, however, politely declined saying, “Her Majesty believes you are as old as you feel, as such The Queen does not believe she meets the relevant criteria to be able to accept, and hopes you will find a more worthy recipient.” What a great attitude; there’s a woman who still has snap in her celery!
Although we usually visit my daughter’s family in New Mexico in October, my broken ankle canceled our plans. The only bright spot in the cancelation is that I won’t have to participate in the dreaded family tradition of navigating through the corn maze at the pumpkin farm! I say “dreaded” because I’m so directionally challenged that I’d have trouble finding my way out of a box. Actually, after our first outing, I’m surprised any of us ever again ventured into another corn maze.
So you, too, must keep watch! For you don’t know what day your Lord is coming. [Matthew 24: 42 (NLT)]
Since my 18-year-old grand is a new driver, I was surprised when her parents purchased a new car for her. Remembering the many dings, scrapes, and dents our teens left on their cars, I asked why they’d replaced the 15-year-old car on which she learned to drive with a new one; “safety features” was their simple and logical explanation. This new car offers things like forward collision warning, automatic emergency braking, adaptive cruise control, blind spot monitoring, lane departure warnings, lane-keeping assist, backup cameras, active park assist, rear cross traffic alert, and a whole variety of air bags (front, side, seatbelt, knee, foot, and curtain along with rollover sensors to deploy them.) Knowing that accidents happen to even the best drivers, damage to a new car is far more acceptable than any damage done to their daughter!
Every Friday, I’m emailed a “weekly wisdom” consisting of two pithy sayings like, “Don’t just trust God for things; trust Him in things,” or “You can’t enjoy today if you’re worrying about the past or the future.” Last week’s wisdom really hit home with, “Not every good idea is a God idea!” More than once, I’ve looked back with regret while saying, “It seemed like such a good idea at the time!”