Riding in a turboprop doesn’t sound like my idea of an adventure. I’m the girl who doesn’t do roller coasters or carnival rides. I carry motion sickness pills whenever I fly. A turboprop sounds like a practical acronym for intentional tummy eruptions.

When I made reservations to fly a commuter airline from Burlington, Iowa to St. Louis, Missouri, I didn’t stop to think about what kind of plane I would take. I was just trying to honor my husband’s request to keep the price of my flight to see my mother under $350.

Moreover, I wasn’t able to reserve a calm, cloudless day for my travels. We awoke to cloudy skies and a line of thunderstorms draped across the mid-section of the country, heading straight toward my line of flight.

When we arrived at the airport at 6:30 in the morning, my trusty, dusty air-chariot graced the tarmac. “You get to ride a Turboprop,” my husband commented.

“This should be fun,” I smirked. Not. The last time I rode a turboprop, we intersected a massive cold front between New York and Ohio. Let’s just say I was too scared to be sick.

I was in for more surprises.

This turboprop had only eight seats. The moment I stepped up to the ticket counter, the clerk instructed me to step on a scale. The gate attendant calibrated our seat assignment to our body weight so the plane would stay balanced. That did a number on my nerves.

We boarded the plane. Yes, eight seats. One cabin. No captain’s cabin. No flight attendant. No package of peanuts. The captain turned to us, gave us the typical safety instructions, and then added. “It’s not bad here, but it may get bumpier the closer we get to St. Louis.”

As we taxied down the runway, I wondered what his definition of “not bad” was. We hadn’t even left the ground before the little plane started to shimmy and shake. As it disconnected from the ground, the plane dipped to one side. My mind accelerated into worry mode. Had we cleared enough ground so the wing wouldn’t crunch on the runway? I forgot to take my motion sickness pill. I don’t like unexpected tips and turns. What have I gotten myself into?

I started to sing.

Engine noise was so loud, no one could hear me. Not wanting others to see my mouth move, I turned my face to the window where I saw nothing but a sea of white. White-out conditions from a snowstorm could not have been any worse. And pilots relied on instruments to get them through the murky skies? My fiction-driven imagination ignited. What if another plane or a big buzzard suddenly materialized right in front of the front window? We’d have one second to say, “Oh my . . .” Crash!

I kept singing. I repeated memory verses. Funny how all the songs and verses I chose to sing had to do with trust. “You Are My Hiding Place.” “Unto Thee O Lord.” “Trust and Obey.” Psalm 143:8. I changed my repertoire. Best to sing a praise song. If the Israelites could praise God while going into battle, so could I. So I started to sing, “How Great Thou Art.”

Right before I reached the line, “I hear the rolling thunder,” a bright flash filled my peripheral vision. I stopped singing after the word rolling. That was lightning. We were in the midst of a thunderstorm. As if in response to my new found awareness, the plane listed to the side.

At that moment God got my attention with these thoughts:

• He created the thunder and the forerunning lightning.
• He made the wind. If he could create the wind and rain, he could maintain and control it too.
• Even though I or the pilots could see nothing through the fog of darkening clouds, God could. God’s radar was far more accurate than any on-board instrument panel. God could see what was out there and He could move it out of the way.
• If He chose not to, then that was His plan for my life or end of it.
• If He chose this moment to be my final one on earth, He could do amazing things with the events of my death that would bring Him glory and honor.

The words spoken by a fellow passenger, an older woman named Carol, in the waiting room at the Burlington airport, replayed in my brain as if summarizing my meandering thoughts: “I’m not concerned. God knows when it’s my time to go.”

Did I believe it or not?

Did I claim faith in Christ or didn’t I? My brain leap-frogged to the next logical conclusion. If God is in control, if God knows what is out there and is steering this little plane around the obstacles, and if I can’t do anything about the situation, I might as well sit back and enjoy the adventure.

So I did. And I lived to tell the rest of you about it.

Scary bumpy rides in turboprops during a thunderstorm aren’t so bad when you know and trust the One at the controls.

Tell us about a time you learned to enjoy the adventure.

What were your favorite Mother’s Day gifts?

My family spoiled me with their Mother’s Day gifts this year. Daughter Katherine made a beautiful plaque that we’ve already hung in our breezeway. Daughter Christine bought my favorite pastry from a specialty bread store and treated us to Mexican food for Mother’s Day lunch. And Katherine’s boyfriend potted some beautiful lilies in a very nice pot. My boyfriend forever (aka, Jack) surprised me with a lovely ruby heart necklace. You should have seen the huge bag he touted into the Mexican Restaurant. I had to go through several bags and boxes to get to the tiny jewelry case!

We all convened in Quincy, Illinois the Saturday before for a picnic lunch of Hyvee friend chicken, fruit salad, potato salad, rolls (from the same specialty bakery), and deviled eggs. It was the first time each of us contributed to the meal. Hooray! I didn’t have to cook it all. I’ve been waiting for the day my adult daughters can share in the cooking.

As wonderful as the Mother’s Day gifts and gatherings were, these weren’t my favorite part of Mother’s Day. I told someone at church I didn’t care what we did. We could have gone to McDonald’s for all I cared. All I wanted was my family.

“Family and God,” he answered.

Well, yeah. Yeah, God is definitely part of the equation. Part and parcel, in fact. That’s what makes being with my family so special. I get a front row seat to watch what God is currently doing in their lives.

In fact, seeing how God is at work in my children’s lives and knowing I had a hand in where they are today were the best Mother’s Day gifts of all.

Christine, my about-to-be-fourth-short-term-missions-trip girl, shared her plans to go to Poland and Germany during our church’s worship service. Katherine told us how she and boyfriend Kevin want to plan a game night at a local nursing home.

Have you ever heard the story of the woman who felt called by God to go on the foreign mission field but instead married and had four children? She felt she had let God down until someone pointed out that all four of her children were on the mission field. She had multiplied her effectiveness by raising four missionaries.

Christine calls that kind of mom a mobilizer.

When God calls you to serve in world evangelism, Christine says, He may be calling you to one of five categories. A go-er, the one who actually relocates to a foreign mission field, can’t do the job without the other four. That includes senders, pray-ers, mobilizers, and the welcomers. The moms and dads who instill a Christian world view and kingdom need into their children are doing exactly what 2 Timothy 2:2 tells us to do: teach them so they can teach others.

“And the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to reliable people who will also be qualified to teach others.”

Some parents feel it’s the church’s responsibility to teach kids about Jesus. Others want to allow their children to make their own decision about faith and religion. Still others feel satisfied and fulfilled if their child accepts Christ as Savior, the younger the age, the better.

But I’ve come to realize none of that is enough. Our job as parents is to disciple our children well enough that they become what is known as a global Christian, one who cares what happens eternally to the rest of the world.

Jesus had only three years to impart His program to a group of twelve men. Parents have eighteen years to plant and cultivate the seed of the gospel in our children’s lives, to go far beyond just a life-time commitment to Christ. Through countless mealtimes, car rides and weekend discussions over game boards, parents have a captive audience to whom we can share our passion and compassion for those who need Jesus in their lives.

That mom who thought she’d failed God? She’s singing my song. I am so grateful I have two daughters who care deeply about whether the people around them know who Jesus Christ is and where they stand in their relationship with him. God showed me that he had used me and their dad to bring forth two more people to work in His harvest fields. I can’t take all the credit, in fact, I won’t take any credit because I know there are all too many faithful Christian parents and even Christian worker parents whose children rebel against faith in Christ. I’m blessed and I don’t deserve it.

Instead, it’s a call to me to continue the discipleship and encouragement of my daughters into their adult years and throughout their lives. It’s a call to invest my life in any children who come across my path, whether children of the church or my own future grandchildren. It’s a call to not stop with a child’s conversion. There is so much more work to be done!

The Great Commission in Matthew 28:18-20 tells us we are to baptize AND teach converts all that Jesus has commanded. My goal as a parent should be two-fold: to win my child to Christ AND to teach them ALL that Christ has commanded, including his mandate to teach others and to be his witnesses.

Observing my daughters’ passion for righteous living and compassion for those who don’t know Jesus—those are the best Mother’s Day gifts of all.

Mother’s Day is coming. Father’s Day is not far behind.

For some, Mother’s Day is a day of family gatherings, flowers, and celebration for the wonderful women who extended the gift of life and sculpted each of us into the people we are today.

For others, the holiday represents a cesspool of memories of the stolen inalienable right of loving parents. A day to regret exclusion from parenthood. A day of grief and maybe even a little resentment that you were stripped of the life of a parent or child too soon in your estimation. While churches distribute carnations to all the moms and lapel pins to the dads, you hunker down in your pew hoping you—and your tears—are invisible, yet wishing someone would notice and care. And yes, sitting among us are those whose guilt over their parenting mistakes make them feel unworthy to accept that parent-honoring gift.

I understand. A divorce happened in our family when I was two. I don’t even remember my father. My step-father was not much more than a financial provider. For years, the best part of Father’s Day was 11:59 p.m. when, with much relief, I put aside thoughts of a holiday honoring fathers for another year.

At one point, I decided that wasn’t good enough. I didn’t have to sit around in misery while the rest of the country celebrated a holiday capitalized on by Hallmark, FTD Florists and Kohl’s. By watching the example of others, I learned how I could be intentional about the celebration of Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. Here’s what I discovered.

You are not alone

You are not the only one who had selfish, immoral parents. You are not the only one who faced infertility. Others have lost parents and children prematurely too. Even more bemoan the miles that keep them from gathering with their loved ones on these special days or quietly grieve children who can’t bother to even send a card or make a phone call.

Yes, I know you know that. And it doesn’t help much. But here’s my point. Let me gently encourage you to intentionally plan ways to get your mind off yourself and focus on others. Grab a gaggle of other women in the same boat and go to a Chinese buffet for lunch. (For some reason, I’ve found, Chinese and Mexican restaurants are not busy on Mother’s Day.) Give a motherless woman a hug and thank her for being an example children would want to follow. If tsunami force waves of grief hit you, push back with prayer. Think of someone who shares real estate on your boat and pray that God help them through this day too.

Think the good thoughts

It’s all too easy to remember the bad stuff. Take Philippians 4:8 to heart. Revel in the good memories. Focus on the moms and dads who have influenced your life and thank them and the Lord for their example.

As immoral and quick-tempered as my step-father was, he was a great money manager. Knowing the day would come when he could no longer work due to a crippling childhood accident, he put half his paycheck in savings and we lived on the other half. The rule in our family was always, always pay off credit card expenditure by the end of the month. His determination to keep working and to do what he could around the house taught me much about tenacity and perseverance in spite of a physical disability. I’m grateful to him for those lessons.

God also put into my life men I could learn from, men who did teach me about integrity, how to treat a woman with respect, and how to encourage with love and fairness. I’ll be forever grateful to men like Gene, Steve, Galen, Bill, Lowell, and my own husband Jack who demonstrated godly fatherhood.

Seize the moment

I once challenged my pastor about the validity of Christmas. “It’s just a Roman pagan holiday. We don’t know the exact date of Jesus’ birth. So why should I celebrate Christmas?”

I didn’t expect the answer I got. “Use every available opportunity to proclaim Christ as Lord.” Pastor Applebury went on to explain. “People’s hearts and minds are more open to listening about Christ at Christmas than at any other time. We need to be prepared to share the Good News when they are ready to listen.”

After conducting nearly 175 funerals, my pastor-husband has learned that lesson well. He is bold to present the Gospel at funeral services. Why? Because people are asking the question: what’s happening to my loved one? Jack grabs the opportunity to give them answers of truth.

So it is with Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. Instead of acerbically resenting the intrusion of Hallmark into my life and mulling over my misfortune, I can and should approach the day with the intent to redeem the past. Instead of thinking about my dad, I honor the current dad in my life, the father of my children who is a great dad. I send Mother’s Day cards to my girl friends or to relatives who were Mom figures in my formative years. I point out God’s all-sufficiency to my heartbroken sisters-in-Christ, reminding them that God is father to the fatherless and husband to the widow.

Look at that wonderful promise found in Psalm 68:5,6:

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land.”

Learn from the past

My husband and I both come from less than stellar childhood backgrounds. When we considered marriage, we made this commitment to each other.

We determined we would become like Joseph in the Bible whose life of integrity defied his family’s multi-generational lifestyle of lying, stealing, and vengeance. We evaluated the poor choices of our parents and made the commitment that our family would be one of grace, compassion, and mercy. We would speak truth in love. We would encourage rather than criticize. We would not allow outside forces to render our marriage ineffective and broken.

Jack and I have made our share of mistakes both in our marriage and our parenting. Hopefully our daughters will also chose to not repeat our bad behavior. Mother’s Day and Father’s Day become a time to celebrate the new past and our two amazing daughters who reflect our choice to break from the generational cycle. We’ve taken control over our memories instead of allowing the memories to control us.

Stay faithful

I walked into church last year on one Parenting Day and saw pain written in large print across the faces of two church members. I intentionally greeted them with, “I’m so glad you’re here.” I didn’t realize how much those words would mean to both of them because both people responded with virtually the same words:

“I didn’t want to come today. This day is a tough day for me. But I knew I need to be here. So I came. I’m glad I did.”

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day always fall on a Sunday. These two dear saints had it right. Whatever day the calendar calls it, their relationship with God and His people is still more important. No matter what has happened in the past, what level of pain resides in your heart, or how life has cheated you of what should be part of a normal, fulfilled life—God comes first. Let nothing come between you and your worship of Him.

No matter how much it hurts, stay faithful.

How legitimate are reports of experiences with angels?

Angels have been a hot topic for several decades. The Inspirational gift market has made a mint from sales of figurines, necklaces, and cute placards extolling the protection and ministry of angels. Guideposts started publication of a magazine called, “Angels On Earth,” and anthologies of stories about angel sightings line bookstore shelves.

My story with an angel encounter could fit right in one of those collections.

I was fifteen and my little local church was fracturing down the middle over, of all things, home bible studies. The traditional group was certain the younger set weren’t acting in proper ways in what was seen as clandestine meetings off church property. One woman with a particularly strong set of opinions, spoke viciously to me about another church member and her wayward ways.

Trying so hard to do Bible things Bible ways and follow the principles of Matthew 18, my mother told me I should confront the woman about her gossip and criticism in private. So I walked to the woman’s house after school the following Wednesday. My efforts were disastrous. I was going down the tubes as fast as everyone else, she told me. This other church member was influencing me to stray from the truth. When I raised my voice in earnest protest, she put a finger to her lips. “My husband isn’t a Christian. He’s asleep in the bedroom. I don’t want him to hear about this conflict.”

I left her home upset and undone. It was the first time I had seen the darker side of church family life. As I walked to my home, I cried. I sobbed. “I love you, Lord, but I hate Your church. I don’t want to have anything to do with it. If this is the way the church acts, take me to Heaven now. I don’t want to be a part of it.” I was so distracted, I was hardly aware that I was approaching a busy four lane street. I started to jaywalk without even stopping to look for oncoming traffic.

A definite force, stronger than a gust of wind, pushed me backward several steps onto the shoulder of the road, making me stumble. Just then, a car whizzed past at 45 miles per hour. If the car had struck me, I would have been killed.

Was it an angel?

I can’t prove that it was. You would have to go only on the report of my experience. I believe it was. But I don’t know that for sure. I do know that an unseen force pushed me out of harms way.

What does the Bible say?

Do angels exist? Do angels protect and minister to God’s people? As always, it’s important to base my beliefs and check my experiences against the Word of God.

Angels are mentioned in the Bible. They:

• Deliver messages from God: An angel appeared to Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist and to Mary, the mother of Jesus (Luke 1)
• Rescue from harm: An angel unlocked the doors of a prison and led the Apostle Peter to safety (Acts 12)
• Protect from danger: An army of angels surrounded the Aramean Army and protected Elisha and his servant (2 Kings 6).
• Worship at the throne of God (Revelations 5:11,12).
• Remove evil from the earth at the end times (Matthew 13:41,42).

I could mention so many other examples. Angels sent to Lot’s house. Angels ministering to Jesus after his temptation in the wilderness. The angel Gabriel announcing the conception of Jesus to Mary. Yes, angels are certainly present in the Bible.

Do each of us have a guardian angel?

Consider Matthew 18:10:

“Beware that you don’t look down on any of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels are always in the presence of my heavenly Father.”

And check out Hebrews 1:14:

“Therefore, angels are only servants—spirits sent to care for people who will inherit salvation.”

Note carefully that while angels are sent to care for and protect God’s people, the Scriptures never say that each individual has his or her own guardian angel.

Is there a misconception with the current fascination with angels?

If there really are angels, then all these stories, figurines, and posters are good things, right? Not necessarily. Look carefully at the verses I’ve shared. Angels are God’s servants. We err when we give an angel more credit than we give God. Angels are His emissaries, His tools to accomplish His purposes. Angels do not take the place of God. They are not superior to God. Leaving God out of the equation is akin to elevating an angel to the same level as God.

Hebrews 1 makes it very clear that Jesus has pre-eminence over the angels. Our focus should always be on God and His Son Jesus Christ.

We cannot leave God out of the equation. That’s why I would rather say, “God protected me” or “God sent his angel to protect me” rather than, “My guardian angel protected me?” Am I being picky? Yes. Does it matter? Absolutely. We need to give credit where credit is due. Giving an angel credit for our protection is about as silly as giving a hammer credit for driving a nail. Angels are God’s messengers, God’s servants. They do what they do by and only by God’s bidding.

Regarding my experience, what should I say?

Most likely it was God’s angel that pushed me away from that speeding car. I can say with much more confidence that God protected me that day. Like a wind where I only see the impact of an unseen force, I could not see God but I did see the results of His presence and His activity. How and by whom He accomplished that is His business, not mine. I’m more than grateful for the result, no matter how it happened!

Another piece of evidence to God’s presence and involvement that fateful day is in the long term effect that event has had on my life. I believe much more than just my earthly existence was at stake. God certainly saved my life. He also saved the reputation of His holy bride, the Church, in my perceptions.

After I got safely to the other side of the highway, these thoughts went through my brain:

God is mightier than the church. He loves the church far more than I do. He wants for it to succeed. He will take care of His church and He would take care of me.

That moment was pivotal in my life and in the life of that congregation. Forty years later, I serve beside my husband in the located ministry. Believe me, we’ve seen lots worse things than opinionated, gossipy women and rebellious, we-want-to-do-it-our-way young adults. Yet the message of that day has helped me hold on and stand firm more than once. I’m able to weather the storms of working in the local church because I got a front row experience of God’s saving power and that He really is mightier than people who don’t get along with each other.

I love the Church with all her shortcomings because God loves the church and gave Himself for her (Eph 5:25).

What happened to that little local church? Ten years later, it had quadrupled in size. Today, it is a mega-church, serving the east side of Tucson, Arizona in amazing ways. God mended the rift and made the church stronger for the mending. He really did love that church and was mightier than the forces that threatened to tear it apart.

How has God’s unseen presence protected and ministered to you?