M. was out of town last week, and on the day he was to come home area weathermen were forecasting severe weather for the entire day: severe thunderstorms, high winds, hail, and tornados were expected.

Just after lunch, the first storm front hit our area and I called M. to let him know that he probably should reschedule his return trip. The first storm would push through our area by mid-afternoon, but more were coming. It’d be safer to stay where he was and just fly back the next morning.

Several hours later M. called to say that he was flying home. He’d gone to the airport with the thought that if the plane was late he’d reschedule, but if it was on time he’d just come home. The plane was scheduled to depart on schedule, so he’d be home soon.

M. called again a couple of hours later, sounding a little breathless:

Me: Hey! Great! How was your flight?

M. : Ummm…. It was fine until we tried to land.

Me: “Tried” to land?

M. : Yeah, the winds were blowing the plane all over the place. It was pretty bad. As we tried to land the plane was really throwing the plane around, so the pilot had to accelerate and take off again so we could circle around and make another attempt. It was pretty scary.

Me: (Thinking several things here, but not wanting to say them because the boys were in the room.) ……………….

M. : There was a moment or two when I thought that we weren’t going to make it. And, you know, it was okay. If God decided to take me home right then, I was okay. But I was praying, “Lord, please, don’t let me die now. I can’t die doing something my wife said I shouldn’t do. She can’t be right.”