June '08

The engines roar and the sudden thrust of speed jolts your head backwards.  Conversations subside as more speed is gathered.  The nose tilts up and you feel your insides churn as the rear wheels are off the runway.  Higher and higher you climb until you level off and the seatbelt light is off... Your life for the next 11 hours is entrusted to the hands of a pilot... A total stranger!

The hooters are beeping as they compete for my R7.00.  All I've done is stick my hand up and point towards the sky.  The one that beats them to a screeching halt is an old tattered, ill sounding one.  The only space "available" is at the back with three horizontally gifted ladies.  It's such a squeeze I hardly touch the seat but am held up by much needed cushioning since the fighter-jet type of driving is really teaching me how to pray... My life for the next few minutes is entrusted to the hands of a reckless driver wearing a cap written, "No Fear" and a tattered T-shirt, written, ‘Need for Speed.'  A total stranger.

From the day we are born we have a choice as to whose hands we entrust our lives to.  Trust God with your life... He is no stranger.