Trusting in the True "Wind Beneath Our Wings"

 1001, 1002, 1003, 1004…

That’s the count that begins in my head after a short prayer, the second my plane begins to roar down the runway on takeoff.

Counting is one of my little tricks to distract me from focusing on the myriad of unthinkable horrors that could potentially occur as I’m thrust down the runway at 200 miles per hour into the wind that is supposed to lift and keep a 700,000-pound tube of metal in the air.

I’ve always had a fear of flying. Not so much a fear of heights, although I’m not a huge fan of that either, but a sense of being out of control. Now, I know the stats should grant me some peace. Far more people die every year in car crashes than in air disasters. But the thing with a car is that if an important part of the engine malfunctions, you usually have the ability to pull over and stop. Not so much at 30,000 feet.

There was a time when every little bump or seemingly out-of-place noise during flight would have me clutching the armrests. On every bank of the airplane, my legs would tense alternately as if somehow I had the ability to bring the airplane back to level.

I’ve come a long way from that time, thanks to methods I’ve devised to distract myself… music, reading, and well… 1001, 1002, 1003, 1004…

I share this not to recommend that anyone with a similar fear of flying adopt these methods. I recognize distraction as a tool, but by no means the best or most effective one.

In Hebrews 11, the Apostle Paul writes of those who, by faith, performed amazing feats in their service to God.

Those who “subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, became valiant in battle, turned to flight the armies of the aliens.” — Hebrews 11:33–34

The stories of their bravery and valor make my occasional terror on the runway seem rather trivial.

They too used a method of distraction to deal with the potential danger and peril that surrounded them, but it was far more powerful, far more effective than merely some counting routine.

Faith.

Paul follows their stories with encouragement for you and me to tap into that same power when dealing with the perils and dangers, real or imagined, that we face in our walk in this world.

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” — Hebrews 12:1–2

Fear? Anxiousness? Paul says lay them aside. Put them out of your mind. Don’t focus on them. Instead, focus on the One who has gone before us, the One who promises to get us through whatever peril we might face to the hope of an eternity with Him in His Kingdom.

The truth is, putting our focus on God is far more than a tool to distract us. There is power there.

In Philippians 4:6-7 we are encouraged “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” 

Regardless of the peril that surrounds me, when I look to Jesus and place my trust in Him, I experience a peace no mental strategy or physical routine could ever produce. I hope that one day I will trade my little counting ritual for a simple prayer spoken in faith on the tarmac. 

That is my goal. But I, like all Christians, still have growing to do—learning to trust that He is, and always will be, far more than a presence inside that metal cylinder on the runway. He is, in every place and every circumstance, the true wind beneath my wings.

Embracing the Whirlwind of Relational "Messiness"

My wife and I are empty nesters. When I look around our home these days it’s very peaceful and usually tidy and, well, I generally like it that way.

But a couple of weeks ago I was reminded how much I miss things being a little less peaceful and tidy.

We spent a week in Florida at an Airbnb with our adult children and our two young, and of course perfect in every way, grandsons—ages two and almost one (more than just a little bias intended).

Now I had envisioned rising early in the morning to enjoy quiet contemplation on our balcony, staring at the sunrise over the gentle lapping of waves on the Gulf. Cue the sound of the player needle screeching across a record. Promptly at 6 a.m. each morning, the squeal of our beloved grandson began, followed by a text from my daughter, “Dad, are you up?” That was shorthand for “Come get our children so we can get some more sleep.”

Thus commenced the beginning of our daily whirlwind. A nonstop swirling storm of half-eaten crackers, crayons, stickers, discarded paper drawings, and other toddler paraphernalia, punctuated by the occasional dirty diaper. Now we did our best to tidy it all up at different points during the day, but it was like catching, well, a whirlwind.

But you know what? I loved it! I not only loved it, I embraced it! Not because of the mess, but because of its source and the joy they brought every moment of our stay.

In Proverbs 14:4, Solomon writes, “Where no oxen are, the trough is clean; But much increase comes by the strength of an ox.”

The farmer who would have a productive farm needed powerful oxen. And, well, oxen are messy. So having to put up with cleaning a messy, unkempt manger is a good thing.

It’s not just oxen and grandchildren, though, that are messy. And not just in the tidy sense. On many levels, people are messy. Relationships are messy. And because relationships are messy, conflict within them is inevitable.

In today’s culture, there is a movement to remove the messiness — to cancel or cut off relationships that are labeled as toxic or negative.

In her online article titled “The Myth of the Perfect Parent and the Collapse of Family Resilience,” Diana Nelson writes:

“There is a dangerous idea spreading quietly through modern culture:
that if a relationship causes discomfort, it is abusive; that if someone disappoints you, they are toxic; and that if your parents fail to meet your emotional needs perfectly, you are justified in cutting them out of your life entirely.
This idea is not only false — it is destructive.
Human relationships are not frictionless. Families, in particular, are built on proximity, difference, and endurance. Conflict is not evidence of abuse. It is evidence of relationship.

True abuse exists.
It is real.
It is devastating.
And it must be taken seriously.

But disagreement, criticism, awkwardness, unsolicited advice, generational differences, and emotional clumsiness are not abuse.
They are the normal friction of human closeness.

What we are witnessing today is not increased emotional intelligence —
it is a collapse in tolerance for relational discomfort.

• Fear of conflict has replaced skill at repair
• Discomfort is mistaken for danger
• Emotional literacy has been replaced by avoidance
• Boundaries are being confused with withdrawal
• Therapy language is being used without therapeutic depth

When separation becomes the default response to conflict, the consequences ripple outward:

• Families fracture
• Grandparents disappear from children’s lives
• Wisdom is lost
• Loneliness increases
• Social trust erodes
• Reconciliation becomes rare
• Accountability disappears

And most tragically, people lose the opportunity to grow through relationship rather than flee from it."

Even we as Christians can fall into the trap of thinking that conflict should not have a place in our relationships.

And, on one level, that belief is understandable.

Romans 12:18 tells us, “If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men.”

One could draw the conclusion from this and many other passages that conflict does not have a place in our relationships, but nothing could be further from the truth.

The very idea that we should strive to live peaceably presupposes that there is disagreement or conflict inherent in relationships that must be worked through to achieve that peace.

In Ephesians 4:26 Paul writes, “Be angry, and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your wrath...”

Paul’s inference here is not that we should never have conflict or wrath. We’re told, yes, be angry, just don’t let it fester. It’s not about avoiding it; it’s about having an urgency and a desire to restore peace when it inevitably occurs.

Galatians 5:22–23 tells us that “...the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.”

Learning to manage conflict in our relationships with the aid of God’s Holy Spirit produces the kind of fruit in the life of a Christian that God desires.

I’m currently undergoing physical therapy for a troublesome rotator cuff injury I initially had repaired over 12 years ago. Therapy is not a pretty process. I was told by my physical therapist that improving the health and function of my shoulder would require breaking down scar tissue that had grown over the joint and tearing down inactive muscles so they could rebuild stronger and healthier. He warned me, “there will be pain.” He wasn’t wrong. In fact, a scream or two has been heard through the therapy clinic once or twice since I began treatments.

I’m willing to go through the messy, painful process because of the healing, growth, and restoration that I foresee on the other side.

That should be the goal of conflict in our relationships as well, should it not? 

Can it be painful? It can be, yes. But through pain and discomfort, restoration and growth can occur. And that is, after all, what our temporary time on this planet is all about.

As my grandchildren grow, they will never stop making messes. They will just learn better how to tidy them up. Until then, putting up with a little messiness is the worthwhile price of experiencing the amazing joy they bring into our lives. 

The Pinky Problem

I have a pinky problem. I inherited it from my great grandfather. The pinky toe on my right foot has a shortened tendon that causes it to stick up above the other toes when I raise my foot.

Now, my little pinky problem has not quite had the negative impact on my life that it did on his. Family lore has it that his little toe stuck up so much and was so painful that he was forced to cut a hole in his right leather boot so it could protrude unencumbered. I’m sure it made for quite the conversation piece. Thankfully mine just causes a slight bulge on the right side of my tennis shoes.

For most of my life I’ve managed to largely ignore this little nuisance, except for some temporary discomfort experienced when I’m breaking in a new pair of shoes. However, as I’ve grown older, the absence of a properly functioning pinky has become more noticeable and more of a problem.

I have developed a propensity for pulling to the right when I walk—so much so that my wife often has to remind me, if I’m not paying attention, to correct my gait so I don’t wander into the middle of the road, or to keep me from crowding her space if she’s walking at my right side.

I did a little research on this little pinky problem of mine. It turns out the pinky toe, though usually hidden from view and not among our most admired body parts—I mean, I’ve never heard anyone exclaim, “Wow, that person has really nice pinkies,” have you?—this seemingly insignificant appendage punches well above its weight.

According to podiatrist Dr. Bruce Pinker (yes, that really is his name), the purpose of the pinky toe is to provide balance and propulsion. “As one takes a step, the foot rolls from lateral to medial in normal foot biomechanics.” The pinky toe acts in concert with the other toes as a type of tripod, helping to maintain balance and a straight gait.

Pretty important little appendage, this pinky toe, wouldn’t you agree?

Well, as it turns out, pinky toes are arguably pretty important in the body of Christ as well.

In 1 Corinthians 12 the apostle Paul writes, “God has set the members, each one of them, in the body just as He pleased. And if they were all one member, where would the body be? But now indeed there are many members, yet one body. And the eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you”; nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” No, much rather, those members of the body which seem to be weaker are necessary. And those members of the body which we think to be less honorable, on these we bestow greater honor; and our unpresentable parts have greater modesty, but our presentable parts have no need. But God composed the body, having given greater honor to that part which lacks it, that there should be no schism in the body, but that the members should have the same care for one another. And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; or if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it. - 1 Corinthians 12:18-26

It goes without saying that our God doesn’t make mistakes. He placed every member in the body where He wants them where they can make a contribution. That contribution may be obvious to others, but for many, it might remain largely unseen, maybe even hidden under a shoe.

At my workplace, I lead a technical platform support team. Now, I think my team performs one of the most important roles in the company, and I tell them so often. But the truth is, if they are doing their job well, they don’t get a lot of attention. They don’t receive a great deal of praise or recognition. If they did, that wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing—it would mean something is likely not working as it should. So they just go about doing their thing, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, operating in the shadows of the organization. I guess you could say they are faithful.

I occasionally hear brethren in the faith express discouragement because they feel they don’t have any gifts, that they don’t make a worthwhile contribution. But that flies in the face of what God, through Paul, clearly tells us.

Everyone has a purpose, even if it doesn't seem obvious to you.

Paul writes here in 1 Corinthians that God bestows greater honor on members we might think are less honorable. Why? So that there would be no schism, no division, in the body. Now, you may not be an eye, or a nose, or a mouth, but without that pinky toe to keep the body in balance, those “greater members” could potentially go wandering into the street, or worse, trip and crash into the pavement. God honors the role you play in His body, whatever form it takes.

Perhaps that role is that of an encourager. Maybe it is in the offering of effectual, fervent prayer for others. Or perhaps it’s the example you set of simply showing up faithfully week after week, month after month, year after year. 

Whatever that thing is, don’t undersell it. God has set you in the body where it has pleased Him. 

Your faithfulness makes a difference. It matters. You matter. Even if you are only a pinky toe.

Blessings, Tony Stith