Flying Solo

I did it! For those of you who fly solo all the time you probably think it’s infantile to be so proud of myself, but this trip, this flight is so significant to me. Perhaps it is less the flying and more the significance…

Since I could sound out the letters to write in my first journal I have dared to say I’ve wanted to write and speak, to communicate human connection. I’ve had a love affair with words for as long as I can remember. My mother always modelled a love for reading (How many other church librarians have an underground operation of “not right for church books” on the side?); every trip to the mall meant a new ‘Golden Book’ for this little tyke.  Words have been a sanctuary, an escape, an adventure, even a way of finding myself. Few things have centred me as much as the feeling and sound of fountain pen to textured paper.

My 30 year journey since those initial days of putting pen to ‘Day to Day Journal’ entries has been a less then direct one.

How I have longed to put the truth to paper.

How I have struggled to do so because then it made it true and that was vulnerable and real.

How I have known it must happen for me to truly be fulfilling my purpose.

My first sincere attempt at vulnerable truth telling on paper happened out of absolute necessity. I was in a season where I was so lost from living through the 2010 earthquake in Haiti I felt I needed to ground myself, get it out of my head, so I could carry on.  Survival guilt was only one of the fallouts from my experience.  As I dared to write and dared to speak I was amazed  at those who connected with my stories.  This was healing for me.  Months later I shared my writing with a few friends and that connection meant everything to me.

What does writing and speaking have to do with flying solo? What was it I was so nervous about? I’ve flown a number of times now, my first time to Kelowna BC, then on to Port au Prince Haiti several times, Atlanta Georgia a few times; surely fling wouldn’t make me nervous, this wasn’t my first time. But it WAS my first time on my own. I couldn’t help wondering how much I had relied on the others I was with before to figure it out. It was the making connections, doing the right thing, knowing where to go next, having a map, not making a mistake that made me nervous.  And here’s what I found out: making your way through connections in the airport is just like walking with Jesus. It’s the part I struggle with the most. Not having a map, not having the plan.  Not knowing the next step.  It’s like Dory in “Finding Nemo”- “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming”, but for me it’s just keep stepping, just keep stepping.  When the plane lands you walk through the adjoining tunnel, make a turn and just start walking, walking until you see a sign that directs you, not to the end, just to the next step and then the next and then the next.

As a child I wanted to write and speak but over time insecurity and self doubt grew and other things took importance, other good things. I followed my heart to teach and love my big family but there was a part missing.  A part that was less obvious on my map of life, a part that was less definiable.  This trip is all about stepping in to that part of myself again, making room for her, not knowing the destination or outcome.

It’s hard to do life “perfect” if there is no map (I know that should read “perfectly” lol). It’s impossible to not make mistakes, disappoint people with unmet expectations, or to even know where the next step is taking you. But maybe, just maybe doing life “perfect” isn’t the point, maybe flying solo with Jesus is the point. Just stepping, step by step, being watchful and mindful of the signs that come your way, the signs that direct you along your purpose in life. Not to an end point, but to a journey, to a relationship.  What if, as Jennie Mayo would say, Jesus just wants to be with me. No checklist of accomplishments for his approval, just to be with ME.

My friend and I started walking two weeks ago, carving out 30 minutes of activity 4 days a week to move quickly.  Of course the objective was to work some physical activity into our too stationary lives but already I’m finding that the walking feeds the relationship too.  Isn’t it the same with Jesus?

As we step after step walk it out with him,

our relationship grows,

we trust him more,

laugh with him more,

cry with him more,

welcome him into the messiness more,

and realize that the point was in the walking, the relationship, not the destination.

You see there’s this crazy liberating thing that happened flying on my own. It’s vulnerability, insecurity, trust and presence all wrapped up in a step and it’s ok; flying solo isn’t so intimidating anymore.