True confessions: I don't like flying.  It squeezes my heart royally, and the sin of fear seeps out.  My mind entertains thoughts like this: once the plane takes off and I leave the ground, there is zero room for error.  Putting it simply, to crash is to die. Of course, there is the balancing view: to die is to be with Jesus, but somehow my stomache doesn't make that connection.  It stays earthbound as the plane takes off, my heart starts pounding, my breathing comes harder, and I start praying.

Well, last night, I flew to London.  Across all that ocean.  In the pitch dark. 

It went fine.  In fact, it was so... so... so ordinary!  The stewardesses did their things (greeting, telling us what to do in case of a water landing [does anyone ever believe them?], serving dinner and then breakfast, etc.), the baby in front of us did her thing (screaming for an hour, then conking nicely for the remainder of the flight), and the pilot did his thing (piloting the huge 777 flawlessly through the pitch dark over an entire ocean to land in a foreign country with hardly a bump or stretch of turbulence).  It was all very ordinary.

But not to me.  To me, it was a miracle.  The LORD spared my life for one more day of service and delight.  The "ordinary" flight was, to me, a fear-filled sinner hanging on tight to my Lord and my ipod and listening to worship songs the whole time, a miracle.  Flight alone is a miracle: I mean, how does that HUGE, HEAVY plane lift so effortlessly into the air?  (I  know, I know.  I'm a homeschool mom.  Physics and air pressure and draft and all that.  BUT!!!!)  I still maintain: it was a miracle, and I'm grateful to God.

May I add another praise report?  London is sunny and 50 degrees!  Miracle # 2 for today.

Tomorrow, 27 of my favorite people will make the same trip, and we will be on hand at Heathrow Airport to welcome them.  (In case you missed it, we are taking about 18  kids and 12 parents and our daughter on the "Grand Tour" through three European countries and seven cities.  (I'll post our progress here as we get the chance.)  It's the ultimate field trip to end our four-year study of Western Civilization together, and my co-op teaching career.

Scott and I could use prayer.  Our loved ones could use prayer.  Without minute-by-minute miracles on this trip, so much can go wrong.  Would you please parter with us in this?  We want these kids to broaden their experience so that they can gain a heart for post-Christian Europe and glorify God for His works through men in ages past.  But, we need God's help to take one step, make one successful take off and landing, and catch even a single train with all 33 people aboard.  There are many flights and trains ahead, and your prayers would mean a lot to me.

Thanks, in advance, and GLORY to God for His miracles and sustaining grace, still working in us today!