3.23.2017; 12:10 pm; Delta Flight 3750
As I wait for take-off, my mind drifts to flights gone by:
December, 1983 to Kansas City. I become jazzed for Jesus at a New Year’s Eve prayer party sponsored by Campus Crusade for Christ. I return and discover all my possessions had been taken from my apartment. I spend the night at a local IHOP, witnessing to the waitress. For a tip, I leave two quarters and a tract, all I have left to give.
March, 1988 to Boston. I visit a woman I met on a mission farm in Georgia. I spend the days reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X and the nights belittling her for being an upper-class liberal.
October, 1992 to San Francisco, with my wife and infant daughter. I became so driven to write a book on faithful fathering that I leave them with the in-laws while I go off to find a library.
September, 2006 to JFK, to serve as Savior-in-residence at a church wandering in the wilderness. I was more than willing to offer my family and mental health as a burnt offering.
3.23.2017; 4:45 pm; Indianapolis
The plane lands. Will I?
Does flying affect your mood stability? If you have a mental illness, what happens when you fly?