How to fly the first time when you're 40

She asked me at the end of a long, crazy day. We were standing in the lobby of our church.

Would you pray about going on a mission trip?

I'm not sure what I said. Or did. I'm pretty sure I said, 

Oh. 

It was like someone asked me if I wanted to go shoe shopping with free money. 

But a million times better. 

She told me a little about the trip, and I asked her if I could have some time to pray about it.

I know by now that just because I want to do something doesn't mean I should do something. 

And I needed to talk to the hubs about it. 

As I collapsed on the couch that night, I did tell him.

He wondered about child care and money. 

Then he said, "Well, I guess you're going to have to conquer that fear of flying..."

I was a little caught off guard.

I'm not afraid of flying. The opportunity has just never presented itself. 

I found myself feeling a little defensive.

I mean, I have spent two (2) nights away from my kids in ten and a half years. 

Now that, honestly, is my choice. And I don't apologize for it. This is how I wanted to raise my kids, and I'm really happy still with this decision. 

But it hasn't afforded me a lot of air travel. 

And as I thought about it, my mom hasn't flown since she was a child. My grandmother doesn't travel much. My great-grandparents didn't fly.

I guess we just aren't a family of fliers. 

I really haven't had a lot of time to think about it in the last decade or so. Except when it would come up in conversation and people would get this really shocked look on their face and say, "You've never flown?" 

That wasn't always fun. 

It didn't bother me, though. I'd laugh it off and say, "Well, no..."

I've been a little busy.

But now, my friend was in Dallas, and she needed me.

I checked it on the map.

632 miles. 10 hours and 41 minutes.

One way.

Hubs said, "No way. You are going to have to fly."

Oh. Okay. Right. 

Fly

Then I'll fly.

My friend and I  decided when I needed to arrive and depart. I arranged childcare.

(And can I say what amazing friends I have? I literally had more offers than I needed, and the sweet friends that did keep my kids complained that I wasn't leaving them long enough. I am so blessed with kind and precious friends.)

Another sweet friend help me buy my plane tickets. We opted for direct flights instead of my having to find my way through an airport with a 47 minute layover. 

Evidently people were worried about me being lost in an airport and/or missing a flight and having to live in an airport in another state. 

Or something. 

Direct flights suited me fine. 

I researched what I could take on the plane. I was coached and talked through what would happen by no less than five friends. 

After getting tons of texts about this I finally figured out that they were actually worried about me.

Good grief. We were talking about an hour and fifty minute direct flight. I wasn't worried about the flying. It was the security check and the finding the right gate that I was more worried about.

The great unknown.

An adventure. 

But I had to go alone. That did throw me a bit. 

I asked a friend if I could get one of those "I'm Flying By Myself" stickers. If they would escort me to my gate. Give me a pin with wings on it. 

She said that pretty much couldn't happen. 

The morning came while it was still dark. I dressed, kissed the hubs good-bye and crept downstairs. Soon there was a soft knock at the door and we were off.

My friend even brought me coffee.

I love her.

It was really early. 

I realized that I was actually nervous. 

I confessed this to her, telling her I felt like I was a disappointment because I was nervous. I'm usually not scared of anything. 

Maybe it's easy to be brave when your life is really just boring, I stated.

She laughed.

"You should be nervous," she said. 

We weren't meant to fly.

Oh. Well. That explains a lot.

She parked at the airport and walked in with me, instead of just dropping me off. She made me go to the bathroom twice and found us a seat to wait in. 

All of a sudden I heard a cat meowing. 

Loudly.

"Um, do you hear a cat meowing or am I just more nervous than I thought?" I was almost afraid to ask it out loud. 

She not only heard it, she went to talk to the owner and take pictures of the cat. (Even though I begged her not to.) The cat was about to fly too. And it wasn't happy about it. 

"I hope they aren't on your flight," she said. 

Thanks.

I got a little more nervous.

She offered help, love and support by photo bombing me.

This was me thinking that perhaps I didn't think through my ride to the airport thoroughly enough.

But at least I am well documented.

Then it was time to go.

My "thoughtful" friend then photo bombed me walking to security.

(I won't post all the pictures. Of me walking.)

She really wanted me to hug and pose with this nice man, and was urging me to do so loudly but I assured her through clenched teeth that he probably didn't want to play. It was here that another TSA agent began edging close to her. I think they correctly pegged her as a threat to something and she put the camera away. 

She missed the lady behind me who asked me why I was being photographed walking to security, and when I responded that I was flying for the first time, she said, "Whoa. I hope you aren't on my flight."

I blinked and said, "Oh. Okay."

Then I narrowed my eyes at her and said, 

I'm not scared. 

She recovered quickly and said, "Oh well then I'm sure you'll do great. My daughter hates to fly and she's a nightmare to fly with. Have fun!"

I sort of forgave her. 

I walked into the security area, paused, watched the people in front of me, doing the same thing they did, also following the instructions that five people had given me repeatedly in the precious days.

The TSA agent got a little amused as I walked past.

"What?" I asked him nervously. "Am I doing something wrong?"

He grinned broadly and said, "Nope. You're doing great. Why do you ask?"

"I haven't done this before," I whispered to him. 

He laughed, "You've doing just fine."

Then he poked his buddy and told him I was flying for the first time. His buddy yelled, "HEY! You're doing GREAT!"

Oh gosh. Good grief. I shoved on my shoes, grabbed my bags, and fled before they could say anything else. 

At least I didn't make any alarms go off.

I found my gate and texted a picture of it to my friend to let her know I had found my gate.  She had not stopped texting me since she had left my side.

I found my gate. 

I felt better when they actually put my destination on that board. 

I decided to look up my favorite passage to read while I waited. Instead of getting my Bible out of my perfectly organized bag, I pulled up my Bible app on my phone. I gasped when I saw the "Read" passage.

2 Samuel 22 was the passage that my friend had clung to the entire time her dad was in the hospital and during and after his death. 

When I saw that, I knew that God was all over this thing. 

That felt good.

Because no matter how brave I was desperate to be, my stomach would not stop doing flips. I had to make myself breathe normally and I kept quoting Isaiah 26:3 over and over again.

Dangit. What happened to my I'm not scared of anything self?

The plane arrived. I texted a picture of it to my friend.

It looks like a Pamprin capsule. 

That made me laugh. 

Wait. This lady is lining up already. Am I supposed to line up too? No one else is? I texted her this picture. 

No. You stay there until they tell you to line up. And those pants are a federal crime.

I tried not to laugh and told her to be nice. And I was glad for the distraction. 

Another friend of mine flew earlier this year and met up with a very nice girl that had never flown. My friend was kind and walked her through everything and helped her. This had encouraged a prayer in me. 

 I'd been praying God would give me a friend to sit with on the plane. Since this was Southwest, I had to pick my own seat. As I walked down the aisle of the plane, the Lord so clearly pointed me to a seat and said, "Sit there."

So I did.

The kind lady next to me reminded me of Paula Deen a little. She was so sweet and immediately started chatting. I'm not normally a chatter, but this was perfect to distract me from what was going on. The attendants were hilarious. They sang to us and told us jokes. I took a quick picture out the window and then decided to ignore the window for awhile. I just smiled and sat there like I had done it a million times. 

Soon we taxied down the runway and took off.

No big deal.

It was never the actual flying that worried me. It was all the other stuff. 

My new friend's name was Janet. After we got in the air I said, "Can I tell you a secret?"

The look on her face was hilarious. I don't think that's what you are supposed to say to someone you just met on an airplane. But she cautiously said, "Yes...?"

"This is my first time to fly," I told her, grinning. 

She was so sweet. 

"Well, honey, you just did great!" 

She started explaining things to me and asking me questions about me and my life. We just talked more and more and then she said, "Here. Get your phone and let me take a picture of you on your first flight so you can show your kids."

That was so kind. She showed me the magazines in the seat in front of me. I really liked this one and I took it home for the kids. 

I knew the middle kid would love it. He's my gadget guy. 

I thought these were really cool too. Janet laughed at my marveling of everything. She said it was fun to see it all with fresh eyes along with someone who was experiencing it for the first time. That was good. I pulled out the safety information and she said I should probably just put that back and not worry about reading it. I thought I should read it so I could be prepared but when I opened it up and saw all of that worst case scenario information, I decided she was right and quickly stuck it back into its home.

Soon I heard a strange sound and she patted me on the arm and said it was the wheels coming down. We were about to land. The landing was a bit bumpy and she said some pilots were better at landings than others. 

Then we were done.

I did it. 

No big deal. 

As we waited to leave the plane, she said, "Well, now you are like everyone else. You've flown!"

"I'm not an anomaly anymore!" We laughed about it, my new friend and I. She even pulled out her business card and said if I was ever in D.C., I had to look her up. 

She was in Dallas for a Mary Kaye convention. I won't ever see anything Mary Kaye and not think about sweet Mrs. Janet. I told her I had prayed for a friend and she was God's answer to my prayer. She patted my arm. We walked the length of Dallas Love airport and we hugged as we parted. 

As my friend and I rode down the interstate, I looked up and saw planes flying overhead. 

That was just me. 

How funny. All those mornings I would walk and catch sight of a plane flying overhead, wishing I was on one, and I was just in a plane just like that. Wow. So amazing.

Soon we drove past the Mary Kaye headquarters. My friend wasn't up to hearing about all of that yet, but I smiled as we drove past.

You are so faithful... 

The return flight home was easier. I just followed the person in front of me through security. I snapped a picture of this man, since the baby kid was very concerned about me spotting a "cowboy" when I was in Texas.

I wasn't nervous about looking out of the window this time, and I marveled at my beloved clouds from this vantage point. 

I didn't talk on the flight home. I had waited at the wrong gate in Dallas. I was sitting there when the Lord so clearly said, "You are at the wrong gate." I had looked at the "arriving" screen and not the "departing" screen. Thankfully I had only been there five minutes and had plenty of time to get to the correct gate. I soon met a new friend at the correct gate, and we chatted. That passed the time quickly. We were delayed when a lady had a panic attack and had to exit the plane. "Whew. So glad that wasn't me," I thought. The lady next to me was studying Daniel, and I really wanted to talk to her about it. I was still though. It felt good to be still. I felt each dip or climb of the plane in the pit of my stomach. There were storms we needed to avoid and a warning of turbulence. As we descended toward the airport we flew right by my old church. I had just left people that I had gone to that church with and tears sprang to my eyes to see it again. I was sad I didn't catch that picture with my camera.  We had to circle the airport a couple of times, and seeing the ground out of the window on one side of the plane and clouds out of the window on the other side was a bit surreal. We bounced down a little more smoothly this time, and I thought of Janet. "This pilot was better at landings," I thought to myself. Oddly enough, I missed Janet. 

I was soon in my brother-in-law's truck headed home, stuck in traffic just like all the other non-fliers on the interstate. 

My great adventure was over. I flew. All by myself.

It's not a big deal, really. I know that. But I'm thankful that I was in a place where once again, it was just me and God. He provided for me faithfully each step of the way. And once I was walking through the airport in my home city, I said, "Lord! We did it! Thank you!"

That felt good. 

He is good.