I had a fear of flying for many years. We didn’t fly a lot when I was younger, and once I was almost left in an airport on the Washington DC trip (buying Cheetos as a snack when the plane suddenly switched gates. good times). But I can’t really pinpoint the fear to anything other than the fact that something as big as a plane gets up in the air and takes people places, even across oceans, seems crazy and unnatural.
But the travel bug caught in college and much traveling about in questionable planes, trains, and automobiles (notably the chicken buses of Central America) had mostly cured me of fears.
But a tradition I stick to is praying during take-off. Stream of consciousness-type prayers, as mine always are, along the lines of “Hey God, thanks for this trip! I’m so excited! I can’t wait to see my little brothers…
View original post 747 more words