Until about two years ago, I’d never seen inside a helicopter in my life. I’d never thought about it really. Never had any true interest. But priorities change and now, I go to the AeroCare helipad about four times a year. Thankfully, my visits have nothing to do with the medical emergencies that’s made these bright red helicopters famous. No medical air transports or bouts with the Jaws of Life. Instead, my visits always seem to coincide with the Lubbock visits of our four-year-old grandson.
An avid aviator aficionado, Judah can recognize the landmark World War II fighter plane as we approach from the interstate. He has been repairing this permanent static display (with rocks!) ever since his first visit at two-years-old.
Judah knows the best place in town to watch private planes start up and take off. The louder the engine, the louder his ad-lib commentary. Judah has even gone in the Silent Wings Museum several times — usually for free bathroom breaks — but a couple of times we’ve explored the World War II gliders together, on both display and film.
All of these events are mere precursors — high-fliers maybe, but definitely not the highlight. We make the drive for the choppers. On occasion, we’ve seen one land. Sometimes, we are fortunate enough to see one hover and take off. A handful of times, we have actually been invited into the helicopter hanger.
On Judah’s last visit, a pilot named Mr. Patrick welcomed us into the hanger to view the double-rotor helicopter stocked and ready for flight. As Patrick talked about the purpose of this particular aircraft, he opened the rear section to reveal the stretcher, cardiac monitor, and IV pumps. I asked Patrick to tell Judah how he became a pilot and he kindly detailed his four years at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs as well as an additional nine months of copter-specific training.
As we rounded the side of the machine, Patrick invited Judah to step up onto the large dolly accommodating the helicopter. Our pilot explained a bit more about the equipment inside and even offered for me to get a picture of the two of them together.
“Any questions,” Patrick asked Judah as we prepared to go.
Judah thought and then inquired, “Now, before I can fly a helicopter I first have to go to that school, right?”
“Yes,” Patrick replied. “You do.” To clarify he added, “You mean the Air Force Academy, correct?”
“Um….No,” said Judah slowly with a pensive look on his face, as if searching for the right word. Finally he replied, “I think that it’s called kindergarten.”
Even as adults, we continue to get bogged down in the details rather than seeing God’s big plan for us. He says, “I declare the end from the beginning, and from long ago what is not yet done, saying: My plan will take place, and I will do all My will” (Isaiah 46:10). He is the same yesterday, today and forever, so details are never a hindrance to Him (Hebrews 13:8).
We still have our own kindergartens before us, in different forms and shapes, all blocking our view of the future. Take a moment to refocus your heart and mind past what’s looming and onto the promises below. You can bank on them as they were made by the One Who’s gone before us:
“I will cry to God Most High, to God Who accomplishes all things for me” (Psalm 57:2).
“The Lord will accomplish what concerns me” (Psalm 138:8).
“Lord, You will establish peace for us, since You have also performed for us all our works” (Isaiah 26:12).
“All things are possible to him who believes” (Mark 9:23).
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