Nope, this isn’t some sort of
bizarre nod to 90’s R & B, because I am actually learning to fly.
This morning, I had my first flight
lesson. It was
incredible and I can’t wait to get back for more. It uses completely different parts of my mind than I stretch
most days at work, it’s a challenge, and it’s fun.
Now the literature geek part of me
loves the metaphor of flight, particularly for a first year solo
pastoring. There is nothing about
my job that isn’t, in some way, learning to fly. Things I have some experience doing – preaching, youth
ministry, visits – I’m doing with a totally new group of people. And things I have never done before –
running session, long range planning in Christian ed, concerning myself with
things like the budget and a beautiful but aging building and all the millions
of details – are a total wilderness.
So, a lot like flying -- there isn’t much to do but try to learn the vehicle,
rely on the system and your lay-leadership / co-pilots, and trust that God’s
got you in the right place at the right time.
The
slight thrill seeker in me (hidden pretty deep) loves the adrenaline of both
adventures, but most of all, the faith part of me loves the freedom, the
jaw-dropping beauty, the wide-open possibility of being up, up, and away.
