(FROM 2009)
It was only a small yellow airplane! What harm could it cause? True, it appeared as if it were dancing and
twirling across the expanse of flowering potato plants, careless of tall trees
and telephone poles! The pilot had a
plan though. His job was to get close to
the ground. And kill bugs. The sudden appearance over the roof of our
house and loud roar of the engine just came with the territory. But try to
explain that to a three year old!
Summer night entertainment at the
Carpenter household often came at the first sound of the crop duster. Our oldest children, Tyler and Amy, would
burst through the screen door laughing and waving at the pilot in the golden
sunshine. They would tip their heads
back and see the white belly of the airplane as it scarcely missed the roof of
our house, skimmed over the shed just beyond the swing set and cruised off to
the far end of the field.
Even one-year-old Kobe stood and
pointed, eyes open wide! But at three,
Corey was one terrified little boy whenever the crop duster appeared. As the family would pour out of the house,
calling to one another, “the spray plane is here! The spray plane is
here!” Corey would make a beeline for
the safety of his bedroom.
“There he is,” Tim pointed towards
the bedroom window one evening where Corey peeked out fearfully from behind the
curtain. Try as we might, there was
nothing we could say or do to coax Corey to come outside with the rest of the
family.
The following day, as I readied
Corey for another fun day of building roads and digging holes in the backyard
sandbox, he leaned his head against my shoulder, “I don’t wanna go
outside.” Surprised, I searched his face
for any tell-tale sign of sickness. “Are
you not feeling well?”
Corey’s blond hair shook side to
side vigorously as he played with his toenails.
I made a mental note to clip them after his evening bath. “Why don’t you want to go? Are you afraid of
the spray plane?” I asked. He nodded,
nervously searching the sky for the cause of his fears.
Try as I might, nothing could
convince Corey to venture further than the safety of our back porch. We had
been through this conversation often enough for me to know that telling him the
spray plane had gone home for the day, was likely eating breakfast, and Mommy
plane wouldn’t let him go outside anymore, wasn’t going to work.
“Get off the porch, Corey!” I kept
telling him, “Go out and play!” Yet, his
perspective of the spray plane is different from mine. I know it’s nothing for him to fear, but in
his eyes it’s pretty scary out there.
It bothers me to see my children
losing out on simple joys in life because of their fears and anxieties, and
while considering Corey’s situation, God spoke to my heart. “You’ve been there, too, Lynette. You prefer to stay where you’re
comfortable! You find it hard to venture
out to where I’m calling you! The things
that hold you back are like that spray plane, they look big to you, but I know
it’s nothing to fear. Get off the
porch, Lynette. The wonderful things I
want you to enjoy can’t be experienced from where you hide.”
Corey’s fear of the spray plane
helped me understand Proverbs 3:5 more clearly, “Trust in the Lord with all
your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” Normally, I focus on the first part - to
trust while overlooking the last part – lean not on my own understanding. My understanding isn’t always right!
“Come,” I offer Corey my hand. His
blonde hair falls over the big green eyes so much like his fathers’. He turns
towards me – uncertain. “I’ll be with you, Corey. You don’t have to be afraid.
Mommy will stay with you the whole time.” I turn my head quickly as we step off
the porch together. I don’t want him to see the tears welling up in my eyes as
I hear my Father’s voice echoing mine. “Run, laugh, dance! Don’t waste one more
moment of golden sunlight leaning on your own understanding! Let Me keep an eye
on the horizon! Let Me take your fear!”
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