While on the plane, was there fervent prayer, panic, pleading? Did people scream as they braced themselves, or slump in their chairs, hunkering down and preparing for an impact they could not control? Hanging upside down from their chairs, still attached by seatbelts - safety first - was all hope lost? Could they smell the acrid smoke, see out their windows that a wing was missing? Did they in shock, suddenly realize that they were indeed, alive, and start unbuckling themselves and then others too, helping one another to their shaky legs, finding their feet beneath them, ready to walk out door openings?
Did anyone make vows to God to honour and obey him while thanking him for this exquisite postponement of their judgment day? Did anyone make promises to change their life forever, begging God for forgiveness of their damning sins? Perhaps there were one or two saints on the plane praying loudly, or there were one or two saints praying for their loved ones from home base ... and this: God sent angels to control the slide, gently hamburger like flip the plane, and stop the icy glide. Delightful, absolutely delightful, dear reader.
Where there is smoke, there is fire, and where there is sin, there are souls in peril. God is so gracious, he let everyone know days ago, that even when it looks as though all is lost, there is hope. The footage I watched was taken by an eye witness, from the ground. They were saying, No, no, no ... and some swear words ushered out. I wonder if God placed that man there, to witness the miracle of a life-time. How joyful I would be to be the one chosen to see such a mind and heart opening event. In fact, I am busting wide open as I type, gleeful for the souls that today, and from this day forever, survived one of the scariest and coolest landings, ever to have taken place in aviation history.
Dear reader, when it is inconvenient to believe, and to have faith in God, that is precisely when we simply must, put all our cares, all our worries, and of our inclinations to fuss, fight and fret, into his capable hands. Prayer is the most powerful weapon in our faith arsenal, and by God, I am praying for more miracles. What is the point of being a saint, dear one, if prayer is ineffectual and does us not a lick of good?
There is much to be grateful for, and much to pray about too. I have nothing to go on until I open my Bible or read from Matthew Henry's Commentary. Our minds are altered, and our thoughts directed, when we begin the day with the God that shifts and moves mountains, makes baby lambs and humans, and gently, ever so kindly, saves lives for the sake of their souls, and for the sake of onlookers that may take this event personally, as an invitation to change.
Don't let this opportunity pass you by, dear one.
I look forward to hearing testimony from the people that were on that plane or anyone that now knows Jesus as Saviour as a result of this event. I pray we hear much from them, and that their joy is evidence for all to see, that God is in charge of life, and death, and everything in-between.
See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no god with me: I kill, and I make alive; I wound, and I heal: neither is there any that can deliver out of my hand (Deuteronomy 32:39)
You, reader dear, are alive because he maintains you. You, dear one, will die one day, according to his schedule, and the death date he has already assigned you. People don't like God being in charge of everything, until of course, their life hangs in the balance, and then somehow God being Almighty, makes a whole lot of sense.
Believe, especially when it is inconvenient, especially when you have no say and circumstances seem dire. Believe always and forever, and your reward awaits.
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