To Fly or Not to Fly

Growing up, I always loved airports. I just loved the atmosphere—all the people coming and going, the planes landing and taking off, the very air vibrating with the wonderful world of “travel.” I was sure I would LOVE to fly.

The first time I got on a plane (that I remember-the trip when I was 3 doesn’t count) was when Scott and I flew from San Jose, CA to Orlando, FL for our honeymoon. (Yes, we went to Disney World. We wanted to go somewhere fun!) The plane lifted off the ground carrying us up, up, up…and suddenly all I could think was, “Put me down!” Oh no. I didn’t like it. I was nervous and afraid. Every noise I asked Scott, “What was that?” Soon I didn’t feel so good either. Great. I didn’t actually throw up…on that trip.

Oh, So Sick

Since then, flying has been a trial for me. I figured it was the fear making me sick so I prayed against fear. I was still sick. Every once in awhile, I would feel fine on a plane, perfectly fine. So I knew it could happen. But then, just as quickly, I could be overcome by nausea. Once I would arrive at my destination, I would fight the dread that came with knowing each day led back to getting on a plane again to get home. Eventually I realized it wasn’t only anxiety bringing this on; I had a problem with plain old motion sickness.

Not that flying was the only time I got motion-sick. I had plenty of episodes in cars too. But they seemed random. Usually I was fine. I mean, I traveled full-time in a motorhome for three years and (after praying about it) I was never sick. I could read, crochet, walk around with no worries. But in later years, I would be blindsided by motion sickness, especially if we left early in the morning on a car trip.

The Trip That Changed It All

In February 2009, I took a trip with my oldest son, Bryn and his friend Dallen with Dallen’s parents, Gary and Deedra, to Dallas, TX for Campus Days at Christ for the Nations. (Awesome ministry school!) We had to drive 5 hours to Spokane first and then fly from there, through Denver to Dallas. Two plane rides, each way. Terrific.

The flights down were the same as always. I prayed. I tried to be calm. I brought tiny pretzels. I didn’t eat too much or too little. And I still felt sick most of the time. I was thinking on that second flight how I believe the Lord actually wants me to fly more in the future. I told Him, “Lord, I can’t show up some place, completely pale and sick and then go speak…Well, I guess actually I can and I will if You want me to, but it’s not going to be a great situation.” I survived and we arrived in Dallas.

Ask and You Will Receive

In the first service at CFNI, during worship, I thought again about arriving sick everywhere I fly to and realized (light bulb moment!) I had done everything I could do and I could not fix this. I raised my arms toward heaven, surrounded by music and voices in praise to God, and prayed, “Lord, I need You to heal me.” I sensed His Presence come down and touch my upraised hands. I didn’t physically feel anything, but I knew He was there and I knew He had touched me. I was pretty sure I was healed.

Testing Out a Healing

I was kind of excited to get on the plane to go home and see if God had really healed me. We boarded a big plane in Dallas. Lots of people. We taxied out to our runway and stopped. Then we turned and taxied back to the gate. A mechanical problem, they said. Before, that would have been “it.” I would have been sick already. Not that day. I had perfect peace in my body. We sat there for two hours. A problem with one of the engines, but not to worry; they could fix it! I knew we would miss our connection in Denver. I still felt fine. I couldn’t wait to take off and get up in the air to be sure God had healed me. We finally took off and even though I was on the aisle of a packed plane, I didn’t have a trace of nausea. Yeah!

We got to Denver. We stood in long lines. We had no luggage, but we would be put up in a motel overnight. My son had a raging headache. We couldn’t find our shuttle. When we finally did get on a short, full shuttle bus to go to our hotel, the driver was definitely incapacitated in some way. Too tired? Too much to drink? The little bus swerved all over the road. My son started to feel sick. I wondered if we would be in an accident when the driver almost took a freeway exit and pulled back at the last minute. I just laughed. I didn’t want to crash, but I was so happy that I felt fine. Perfectly, wonderfully, so-not-sick, fine.

Joy, Joy, Joy

The next day we flew to Spokane. I felt great. Our luggage didn’t arrive till later. We had to wait for it and then drive five hours. I felt fine then too. And I haven’t had a moment of motion sickness in any moving anything ever since!

Can I tell you that flying is a lot more fun when you’re not sick?! The trip is more fun when you aren’t dreading getting back on the plane too.

I just flew to WA and back to visit my parents and my brother and his family. It was great. On the way home, our little, 20-row plane bucked and bolted as we came down through the clouds. Then we edged back up a little. My head felt so funny with the pressure change, but my stomach was solid as a rock—which gives me such joy. Just getting on a plane makes me smile now because of what the Lord has done for me.

I’m so thankful to the Lord. I look forward to many flights in the future because of His touch.

If you’re wondering whether God still heals or not–take it from me–He does!