When Your Heart Breaks

I woke up last Thursday morning to the horrifying news of a plane and helicopter crashing into the Potomac River.

I’m sure I’m not the only one feeling the impact of such an event. I have been glued to the television, talking to friends and family about the situation, wondering how such a collision could even happen. I have read about the people who lost their lives, mourning lives cut short, praying for the families. It has taken an emotional toll on me.

Or maybe I’m an anomaly in my interest. But, I have a vested interest in the aviation industry. You see, my son is a pilot. He is simply waiting for his class date for the airlines. He is young and excited for the future, a future taking all of us across the country in just a few hours! He loves the freedom of being in the skies, of being the pilot in command. He could talk about planes all day!

My husband also works with the Federal Aviation Administration. He knows many air traffic control students and instructors. He has an inside look at how air traffic controllers are trained and how they do their jobs.

Aviation is a central part of our lives, and since my son became a pilot, I have a keen interest in all things aviation.

I think when I learned of the plane crash, I immediately—even subconsciously—put myself in the place of the pilots’ parents.

And my heart broke.

And my heart continues to break each and every day.

My son called me one day after the crash. He had just learned that First Officer Sam Lilley of the American Airlines flight had actually taught his flight instructor. In a roundabout way, my own son was taught to fly by one of the pilots of the ill-fated American Airlines flight. It makes the connection that much deeper and more emotional.

I am also keenly aware of the dangers both my boys face, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Blake has been working as a flight instructor for several years. He leaves work completely exhausted mentally. You see, as the pilot in command, he is solely responsible for his safety as well as that of his student. He must be 100% “on” at all times. He must be aware of what the student is doing as well as ready to take the controls in an instant. He must let the student make calculated mistakes to learn what to do and what not to do. He must be aware of everything going on around him. He can’t let his guard down for even a second when he is in the air with a student.

Can I be honest? As a mom, the thought of my son flying with students can be overwhelming. Of course, I’m sure it doesn’t help that I still see him as that precious 6 lb 12oz baby I brought home over 25 years ago! But, I also know while my son is the pilot in command, in reality he is in God’s hands. And God is quite capable of taking care of my son, of all my children.

As I’ve watched the devastation, my mind keeps wandering to that place of if it had been my son at the commands of the plane. What would I do?

Worship God. I think I am truly at a place in my walk with God where I could worship through the pain and devastation. I’m not saying it would be easy. I’m not saying I wouldn’t be mad. I’m not saying I wouldn’t lash out. Ultimately, though, I think I could choose to praise Jesus in the midst of my pain.

I always think of Job. He lost his kids. He lost his home. He lost his income. He lost his health. And his response was to fall to his knees and worship (Job 1:20-21). It was what came naturally because he had chosen to walk with God throughout his life.

I pray when I encounter grief God enables me to fall to my knees in worship.

Thank God. Would I thank God for losing my child? Absolutely not! But, I would thank God for the opportunity to raise my children, to walk alongside them for the two decades I’ve had them. I would thank God for the beautiful soul my child is. I would thank God for the hope of eternity with Him and my child.

But I think I would also thank God that my child was able to live free, to create the life he always dreamed of. As difficult as it is, I have worked over the last few years to let my kids choose the path for their life. I have tried to encourage them to live their lives rather than following my plan for their lives. It’s tough to let go, but I want to see my kids live out their God-given purpose. I want them to love their lives!

And, they have all chosen unique paths totally foreign to me—and I am so incredibly proud of them!

Grieve deeply. In the midst of it all, I know my heart would be torn into a million tatters. I would cry uncontrollably, mourn with every ounce of my being. I am quite certain I would be inconsolable.

I love the picture in John 11 where Jesus wept. You see, He grieved just as you and I grieve. He grieved with Mary and Martha and all of Lazarus’s loved ones. His heart experienced the same human grief we experience today.

To know Jesus comes alongside each of us and weeps with us in our pain and devastation is such a gift! Even when we experience the brokenness of this life, we can know that we don’t walk this path alone. We have a Savior who embraces us and loves us through the deepest, darkest pain of our lives. He is with us, weeping with us.

Maybe your devastation isn’t that of watching this horrendous event, but maybe you have another pain you are experiencing. What is it? Where do you need to fall on your needs and choose to worship? What do you need to thank God for? Where do you need to know God is weeping right alongside you? Friends, He is our safe place, our friend in the darkest days of our lives. He is waiting for you.