Lessons learned from jumping from a plane

A lesson learned from skydiving: jumping from a plane is truly about taking a leap of faith. What else could it be, rolling out of a plane at 13,000 feet? Boy, it was a miserably cold the day I had set up to do a tandem jump from a plane. I could not feel my fingers at one point, but I was committed to scratching  this one thing off my bucket list. I tried not to put much thought into the decision as I rolled into the parking lot of the hanger. In some respects the cold was a good thing. At least it gave me an excuse for shaking. All manner of doubts are going through my mind as the plane ascends to the proper height, and the guy that holds my life in his hands is strapping me tightly into his harness. I was asking myself why, when other people are sitting in front of a fire watching sports, or venturing out for a day of shopping on this cold Saturday, that I had paid good money to be hurled out of a plane? The true pinnacle of fear is when the door slides open and you butt scoot to the opening so your feet can dangle out side the plane. None of this is natural in the order of life. Every fiber of my being was begging me to reconsider.  I knew true fear then, and I hoped it didn’t force me to wet my pants. I keep thinking back to the times I used to drink and wanted to yell to some phantom stewardess for a double of the hard stuff. But like they say, “The first step is the hardest.” I mean, once you roll out the plane you can’t roll back into it, so the next stop is the bottom floor, and I hope at a controlled descent. As a side note, I have watched Break Point so many times and I was under the delusion that it was somewhat peaceful, falling to earth, but when you are falling at 32 feet per second peaceful is the wrong word. The noise of the wind passing your ears and the violence of the air hitting your face is beyond belief. I was wearing goggles and still managed to blow a contact out of one eye. No time for fear at this point, nor the thought of frozen, pee-pee pants, because I was caught in what seemed like one heck of a storm, minus the rain and lightning. But good gracious that wind! My face was blown back behind me….. When the guy riding on my back (and truly my life line) deployed the parachute, just a tenth of a second of space with the deploying of the chute, and then I felt true peace. It was truly magical to look out over all the farms, the cars, the buildings, and the cows looking like ants with nothing between you and your view. I was suspended like a mobile over a baby’s crib, seeing nothing but the goodness of all things in view. I thought that this must be what God saw when looking out over the creation of life. Maybe when an Angel first arrives to conduct some business this view is what holds them together and keeps them optimistic about some of the dirtier details they are forced to sort out at the lower levels and the view they last see when they depart. Maybe it keeps them coming back and for me, and all my faults, I am thankful.