it's okay to not know everything

"Nana, I'm nervous."

Carter sat across the table from me at Olive Garden last weekend. At these words, I tuned out the rest of the conversation at the table and leaned forward.

I'm not sure what made me the most uncomfortable - hearing that words like 'nervous' were now a part of his vocabulary, or suddenly realizing that this precocious four-not-yet-five year old understood what 'nervous' meant.

Either way, I could tell that this was no run-of-the-mill Nana/Carter chat. I locked my eyes on his large brown, unblinking ones, and didn't let go.

"What is it, buddy? Why are you nervous?"

"The plane. I'm nervous about the plane. I do not think I will look out the window. AT ALL."

He is referring to our family vacation to Florida in June. While the rest of us were excitedly discussing the vacation house we've leased, the beach we want to visit, and the seemingly endless wonders of all that is Disney, Carter had been quietly dealing with an issue all by himself.

He was scared to fly.

Since this is to be his first flight and because he is so adventurous by nature, we'd really given no thought that this fear might be a very real possibility. I don't remember just what all I said to Carter last week-end. I'm sure I assured him that he could sit by Pops or Nana or his parents and squeeze our hands if he became nervous on the plane. While I don't remember for sure, I'm pretty sure he picked Uncle Jorge over all of us. At some point I reminded him that he will get to pack his backpack with all kinds of fun stuff to bring on the plane ride. We tried our best to explain that the take off and landing are really nothing like his young mind is envisioning.

But you know what?

Our words were just that. Words. He is a very smart four-year-old who has crossed that invisible line between believing everything that is told to him and having the sudden need to understand  what is being told to him. Simple explanations are no longer satisfactory.

He needs to understand what makes the plane go into the air. He wants to know how the pilot maneuvers through the air and somehow, magically, finds Disney World. How do you explain to a four-year-old that the pilot of the plane is very capable of carrying our family to Florida?

I've replayed this conversation over and over in my head this past week. I have been not so unlike Carter lately. Why is it that I try to understand every little thing - wanting to know what makes something work, or worrying that maybe I've done something that will inhibit something working- when, all along, the pilot of my life's plane is more than capable?

The mysterious things in life - whether it's how an airplane takes flight for Carter or something a bit more complex for Carter's Nana - almost always causes us to stop and question. But today, I will not question the 'whys' and 'hows' and 'why nots'.

This is a ride I would not miss for the world. I may get scared sometimes. I may be afraid to look out the window at times. I am quite certain that I will never fully understand how some of the most exquisite yet fragile things in my life work.

But while I may not always understand what makes it all work, that's not important. IT WORKS. And that is enough for me. What IS important is that I know and love and trust the pilot of my life's plane.

That's it.

And if I am ever 'nervous,' all I have to know is that, while I am in God's hands, the hand of my travel buddy is always close by. It's okay to squeeze it from time to time. The strength I draw from this touch gives me the courage to look out all the windows and to cherish every second of this trip.

It's okay to not know everything.

Comments

[Rochelle]

What an awesome vantage point we have when we fly with Him, even when we can't understand it all. After all, when we let Him control the little buttons, and all those levers, and gadgets, we can sit back in first class, enjoy a glass of DC (so to speak), eat a gourmet meal (not peanuts) and enjoy the ride. We may still try to sift our vision through clouds and feel the same turbulence as those in coach, but we know He will get us to our destination safely. He is a good God. And Carter is a bright little boy, with a wise Nana.

[Staci]

I'm learning to enjoy the gifts of God that I don't always understand. And, in those times, I've adopted this phrase, "No words."

No words needed. At all.