Peace in Turbulent Times
Robert Dawson
Psalm 63
I have never been very fond of heights and for the longest time was not that thrilled when I had to fly in an airplane. One of the first times that I flew was when I was on staff at PGBC in Creedmoor, NC. The church had found out that my dad was having surgery for prostate cancer and I wanted to be there for the surgery and they wanted me there so they bought me plane tickets and gave me some time off and sent me off to the Raleigh/Durham airport to fly back to good ole Valdosta.
At the airport I boarded a big nice plane in Raleigh and had a wonderful trip to Atlanta. It seemed like we had had just taken off, unbuckled my seatbelt, been served a soft drink and bag pretzels when we were told to prepare for landing. After we got to Atlanta I had to quickly hoof it over to the terminal so I could board yet another plane - this one not as big, as nice nor was the ride quite as smooth and the air was not really working all that well.
I made the mistake that morning of not eating anything - not even the bag of pretzels. Unless they are covered in chocolate and drizzled with caramel they are not high on my choice of foods. From that point on I always make sure I have had something to eat or have a snack with me on the plane.
On the way home we ran into a little bit of bad weather and that crop duster we were flying in did not seem to handle it well or either the pilot had not handled his liquor well one. We circled Valdosta for so long I thought we might end up in Cuba or something. While we circled in turbulence I started to feel - not so great. My head started pounding. I started sweating. My stomach starting talking and it was not saying nice things and I started desperately to look for the baggy and could not find one anywhere. About the time I was ready to ask if they could get me one or let me into the bathroom we landed.
Mom was there waiting to pick me up. I got a cold drink and mom gave me the key ...
Robert Dawson
Psalm 63
I have never been very fond of heights and for the longest time was not that thrilled when I had to fly in an airplane. One of the first times that I flew was when I was on staff at PGBC in Creedmoor, NC. The church had found out that my dad was having surgery for prostate cancer and I wanted to be there for the surgery and they wanted me there so they bought me plane tickets and gave me some time off and sent me off to the Raleigh/Durham airport to fly back to good ole Valdosta.
At the airport I boarded a big nice plane in Raleigh and had a wonderful trip to Atlanta. It seemed like we had had just taken off, unbuckled my seatbelt, been served a soft drink and bag pretzels when we were told to prepare for landing. After we got to Atlanta I had to quickly hoof it over to the terminal so I could board yet another plane - this one not as big, as nice nor was the ride quite as smooth and the air was not really working all that well.
I made the mistake that morning of not eating anything - not even the bag of pretzels. Unless they are covered in chocolate and drizzled with caramel they are not high on my choice of foods. From that point on I always make sure I have had something to eat or have a snack with me on the plane.
On the way home we ran into a little bit of bad weather and that crop duster we were flying in did not seem to handle it well or either the pilot had not handled his liquor well one. We circled Valdosta for so long I thought we might end up in Cuba or something. While we circled in turbulence I started to feel - not so great. My head started pounding. I started sweating. My stomach starting talking and it was not saying nice things and I started desperately to look for the baggy and could not find one anywhere. About the time I was ready to ask if they could get me one or let me into the bathroom we landed.
Mom was there waiting to pick me up. I got a cold drink and mom gave me the key ...
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