On my first trip to Israel in 2006, perspective transfused into my lifeblood. I went in fear, trepidation, and curiosity. It had never occurred to me to want travel to this place of emotional turmoil , holy that it is. In God’s timing, seeds of change take place; new roots start to grow. My heart turned.
I have a fear of flying. I would rather walk, drive or sail the ocean on the tail end of a hurricane (which is another story in itself). It started in my late teens. I flew to the Azores in 1973 after the crash at Logan Airport. If it hadn’t been my airport, it would not have affected my thought process, though I mourn the loss of life. The time came. It ran over me when my back was turned.
I remember praying in the night. The answer came in the form of the One who walked on the water. He came to me saying, “Take heart, it is me. Do not be afraid.” And so I purposed not to. At least in theory. I wish I could say that I held onto the promise as my insides were melting down.
I got there. I think I flew.