The Captain's Chair - by Chris Archinal

I basically fly on a plane for a living. Meaning, my job requires me to travel to see my customers. I average around 75,000 air miles per year. I’m pretty sure I've seen it all - delays, turbulence, missed flights, and some of the most interesting people you'd ever encounter. Planes have taken me to Little Rock and London Heathrow; Amarillo and Amsterdam; San Francisco and Singapore; Dallas and Denmark. Okay, you get the point. This ain't my first rodeo.

But today, January 18, 2011 was no ordinary flight. I was flying with a colleague from Dallas to New Orleans for a quick trip to take some clients to dinner. The first bit of bad news was the announcement of a delay. The delay was not a biggie, but, it was for a reason I hadn't heard before. Apparently the captain's chair was broken and had to be replaced. Fortunately, we were still departing in time to make our dinner. So an hour later, off we go.

Just before take off I always say a prayer. It's basically the same prayer each time, but said each time with great sincerity and complete abandonment. It goes like this, "Father God, you know my heart and you know desires. You know my love for you and for my family. My desire, God, is to be the husband to Lisa and the father to Mary Cate, Jack and Ellie for a long time. But, God, if your Kingdom work can be accomplished more quickly or radically as a result my death on this flight I just say to You, 'not my will, but Yours be done, oh God.'"

Kinda morbid, huh?! I don't think I've shared that prayer outside of this blog entry with anyone other than Lisa and maybe a close friend until now. But it's an important, intimate part of my walk that is very serious to me. I honestly mean that prayer each time I say it.

Upon our initial decent into the NOLA airport we began to experience slight turbulence. Now, with the landing gear down, and somewhere in the neighborhood of about a thousand feet from the ground, the light turbulence turned moderate then quickly into extreme. It was the worst turbulence I had ever experienced. People were vomiting, gasping for air and even crying out at times. It was bad.

As bad as it got, I was at peace, that is, until the pilot suddenly "pulled up". With the landing gear down, a 737, at such low altitude, does not ‘turn on a dime’ . I could hear the massive engines straining as the big hunk of metal fought against gravity. I could feel the force of the storm pushing the plane to the ground. Periodic bursts of lightning and heavy rain made the experience even more intense. (I later learned this extreme weather was called a "micro-burst").

Looking to the flight attendants for reassurance was a poor choice. I found them locking arms as they cried and prayed together. The plane struggled to gain altitude and the turbulence increased. I, too, found myself praying. I confess that, though I am prepared for death, I'm not quite ready to go. My thoughts turned to Lisa and the kids.

Visions of who would attend my funeral began to pop in my head...it was crazy. I thought of my friend and co-worker, John, with whom I had just shared Christ the night before. Would my death make him see God's love? And then, in that moment, I thought about the Captain's chair. I thought it interesting that this entire flight was initially delayed because the pilot's chair was broken and had to be replaced in order to fly. I doubt very seriously that our pilot's ability to navigate through the storm would have been impacted based on a broken chair. Nevertheless, it made me think.

I thought, perhaps, the Captain's chair has been broken in my life...or maybe empty. It made me realize that I have been flying this ‘plane’ called life on my own of late, and, while I seem to have been navigating some storms on my own I'm not really prepared to do life flying solo. The Captain's chair of my life has been occupied by me, and that my friend is a broken chair!

I don't want to oversell this story. While I do think this was as close of a ‘near death’ experience as I have ever encountered, it wasn't filled with prayers like, "God if you save me I promise to...." I didn't see my life flash before my eyes. I didn't see a white light or loved ones who have gone before me. But let me tell you what I did see. I saw a massive plane wreck. I saw my family weeping over my demise. I saw a long road ahead for my friends and family as they cope with life without me. (I mean, I am pretty special. It might take hours or even days to get over me). I saw my life as it is today and wasn't particularly happy with it.

When you see yourself in the Captain's chair it should, quite bluntly, scare the hell out of you. It should cause you to reevaluate just who's in charge. It did me. Truthfully, I didn't like what I saw. With me in the Captain's chair of my life, I am destined to experience as massive wreck. A wreck that could, quite possibly, devastate my family and friends.

So today, I evacuated the Captain's chair. I hope I have the discipline and courage to do it tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. Yes, I hope I have the discipline and courage, because le’me tell ya something. I'm a pretty good guy but there are a few things you wouldn't want me to do: perform surgery, defend you in court...or fly a plane. I am not capable.

So, today, I relinquish control and ask God to once again take over the Captain's chair in my life. Will you do the same? Don't wait for your own hard lesson. Learn from mine.

See you in the skies!