We were on the ground in Albuquerque last Monday night, waiting for passengers to board for the next leg to Phoenix. A few minutes earlier we were in the clouds, a 737 jet being bounced around like a ping pong ball in a lottery machine.

Looking out the window all you could see was gray sky pressing its face against the glass. The plane lurched up and diagonally, then a sudden drop that made you glad for the seatbelt. Bump, bump, big bump, huge bump, lurch. Then the back end of the plane jerking to the right, like a cat’s toy ball would feel when batted across the floor.

Except for the commuter flight I once had in a 17-passenger turbo prop during a thunderstorm that threw the ice out of my glass, this was the worst I’ve ever experienced.

A white haired elderly lady in the row ahead of me was quite frightened. From her thick accent, she sounded Russian. She was squeezing the arm of the female stranger next to her and a 40-something man across the aisle was trying to talk her into a happy place. “This is just like deep sea fishing. Come to think of it, that’s no fun either. But don’t worry, we’ll be on the ground soon.”

All I could think was that after this flight, all the rides at Disneyland won’t be fun anymore.

In the middle of the turbulence I noticed myself gripping the arm rests and bracing my foot against the metal base of the seat in front of me.

Then I thought about what I was doing. 

Steadying oneself while walking on the ground has some merit. Out for a stroll and hit a patch of rough sidewalk? Grabbing for a street sign or an oak tree makes sense. Keeps you from falling down.

Steadying oneself in a plane? Doesn’t make much sense, does it?

A firm grip on the arm rests and bracing with both feet while riding in an aluminum tube at 500 miles per hour 30,000 feet above the ground is, at best, a good isometric exercise. It won’t smooth the ride and it sure won’t help if the plane crashes.

The obvious truth in that moment was that there was only one person with any control over the outcome. It’s all up to the skill and experience of the pilot. As he goes, so goes the flight. That’s why airlines require a high standard when entrusting the person in the cockpit with the safety of hundreds of passengers.

We live in a rough and tumble world. Our best efforts to smooth the bumps with our jobs and our education and good planning help some. But turbulence is inevitable. And bracing ourselves against it won’t spare us from being knocked around. In the middle of it there’s only One with ultimate control.

Thankfully, God can be trusted to get us through. We may look every bit like a storm tossed mess on the other side, but we’ll have been brought through. Bedraggled and soaking wet maybe. Hopefully stronger. But through.

From Albuquerque to Phoenix there was another patch of bumpy air. This time I crossed my arms, relaxed my legs and resisted the urge to brace myself. It didn’t make it smoother, but why worry about something I can’t control, right?

Right.

Then I laughed at myself. Hard. Because I have a PhD in worrying about what I can’t control.

Oh well. At least I gave up being a control freak for 50 minutes. That’s pretty good for me.

Actually, it might be a personal record.

It’s a new week. Fasten your seatbelts. Enjoy the ride.

“Now this is what the Lord says…Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior…” – Isaiah 43:1-3 

Finally, we get off the ground. The Dad and Mom decide to switch places. He’s holding the boy and from my vantage point all I can see are two little legs sticking out into the aisle, flailing and kicking.

Then the little guy loses it. He freaks out. He red lines his volume. And that’s when it all breaks loose.

Mr. Wall Street Journal spins his head toward the Dad, “Can’t you keep that kid quiet??!!” The Dad exercises enormous restraint, “I’m doing the best I can!” Mr. Wall Street Journal then says a little too loudly to no one in particular and everyone in general, “I didn’t pay for a ticket to listen to this all the way home!” and in the same instant slams his fist into the back of the seat in front of him where the little boy’s Mom is sitting. He hits it hard enough to break the latch on the tray table so it won’t stay in its locked and upright position.

Ever experience one of those flashpoint situations where everything happens at once?

In the microsecond after the passengers realize what has happened, public opinion swings 180 degrees in favor of the little guy. They turn on Mr. Wall Street Journal like a pack of wild dogs. They yell and hiss and in short order make him wish he would have rented a car to get home.

Then something wonderful happens. A kind, wonderful, spontaneous thing that changes the entire atmosphere on the plane. Rolling like a wave from the front to the back, over the top of the seats all you can see are hands filled with bounty from purses and tote bags and backpacks, passed from one row to the next. In less than a minute the Dad’s lap is overflowing with stuffed animals, candy and toys.

Thankfully, a few minutes later, the little guy falls asleep.

Kindness. It transformed the atmosphere on that plane from hostility to peace.

Whatever shape it takes and however it’s offered, kindness has the power to transform. A harsh and angry attitude can be calmed with kind words. A closed and fearful heart can learn to trust when surrounded with kindness. Kindness helps welcome new folks into the neighborhood. Kindness helps dispel our fears. Kindness gives people the courage to try again. Kindness helps people out of awkward situations. Kindness paves the way for reconciliation.

Perhaps kindness is transforming because it’s so surprising. We live in a reciprocal world. Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you. Be mean to me and I’ll be mean to you. That’s why kindness is often unexpected. It catches people off guard.

This idea of transforming kindness was God’s idea. God is not reciprocal with us. In our faults and failures, God responds with kindness. God is kind toward sinners, which is to say God is kind to me and to you. (Romans 2:4; Ephesians 2:7) That’s certainly a surprise when we’re expecting to be punished. He desires that you and I extend the same kindness to those around us.

Do something wonderful today. Go surprise some people.

Be kind.

“…clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.” – Colossians 3:12-14