Pilots and Pioneers of Dreams

I came across a fascinating admission today in a favorite poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…”

My thoughts are right now with my dear and close friend, Lia, who tragically lost her husband David just four weeks ago to a massive and sudden heart attack. We are kindred spirits in many ways, and I grieve with her, not only in her loss, but for all the moments and experiences that lie ahead for her, shadows that surprise with their sharp stabs, unwitting wounds, and raw encounters with the deepest emotions, tears that never seem to stop, a loss that never fully goes away.

But life is filled with serendipities, and the toast Bill and I celebrated with every breath, “Here’s to whatever comes next!” was our open-hearted embrace of the true adventure of life.

As I read the words of the poem, I realized for perhaps the first time, that I am more in love with Bill now, even than when he was alive on this earth. Crazy? Imagination? Not at all. Elizabeth Barrett sums up her soliloquy on love with this conclusion

“…and, if God choose, I shall but love thee

better after death.”

How can that be? It’s simpler than you might imagine. Now the freedom in loving is limitless. No longer distracted with human frailties and failings, or the notches etched on those superficial goalposts of worldly achievement, we are free to love our man as he truly is. The intrinsic Bill, glowing and alive with all the qualities I loved and admired so much. Dancing and fully alive in the presence of God, exploring the universes with Jesus as his guide. Courageous, sensitive, creative, spontaneous, exuberant, warm, and loving. Freed from the restraints of this earth life.

I can’t answer for those with different eyes of faith, but Lia and I both know where our guys are. Blazing new trails in the spirit life, beckoning us onward and upward. Will we be reunited in marriage? Not at all. That is but a shadow of the life to come, a glimpse of the sacred romance that God is calling us to. But the communion of soulmates and like-minded spirits may well continue in God’s eternal kingdom. What we experience here is a mere foreshadowing of what’s to come.

So I think more these days of the lessons Bill patiently tried to teach me. I was often a stubborn student. Inclined to be rebellious to instruction and discipline. I’m beginning to appreciate the finer points of his gentle coaching, his living example, quietly fulfilling his God-assigned mission to train me up to fly solo and launch off into the wild blue with confidence and the ability to make wise decisions.

The October copy of Sport Aviation magazine has an article on the 'Pilot Personality.'

Bill was the advanced version of all their descriptions. His internal clock could tell you the time, night or day, to within a few minutes. Reading the weather was second nature, and he could explain weather systems and clouds and ground fog better than most meteorologists. While filled with dreams and a continual quest for adventure, he always faced the reality of life, with a contingency plan for every “What If” situation.

‘Pilots scan people as if they were instruments; they draw conclusions at a glance, rather than relying on long and emotion-laden conversations.’ Yes, he was astute at summing people up, giving more attention to those who were genuine, regardless of their station in life.

People who talked about themselves a lot were his pet peeve, and he was never impressed with those who self-promoted. He could relate equally to a housekeeper as to a President of a foreign country. Perhaps because he treated each of them as a person of value. Where else do we read about that example?? No wonder God figured he was ready to move on to the next level.

And so I think about Lia’s husband, David. Humble, self-effacing, modest. He was a quiet doer of the Word with a heart of gold, willing to help anyone without ever asking for anything in return, and never counting the cost. I don’t know anyone who worked as hard as David, sacrificing all for his family and the dreams of his two sons.

He quietly believed in them, never demanding the moon, but always encouraging them to strive for excellence with patience and diligence. And their individual accomplishments to date have been nothing short of astonishing.

Mentoring others is a quiet calling. God whispers His wisdom in the secret places, choosing those who love to watch others grow and take flight. “Trust the wings you have been given,” Bill’s words echo in my heart. “You do know how to fly.”