Joining Jeremy in his bed, even briefly, is something hard to explain. We don’t have to say anything. Just sit there by his side. His bed is really a cockpit. When I climb up into it, I can’t help but think how similarly it feels climbing into a fighter plane. The novelty of the experience is quickly replaced by the heavy realization of inadequacy and the thought, “I could never do this.”

Honestly, I feel silly next to the calm pilot next to me who daily faces uncertainty and sees the world from vantages that few dare dream exist; let alone have the courage to navigate. Cockpits are meant to fly in. To transcend normal experiences. They take enormous faith and courage in the face of adversity. 

Jeremy is one such brave pilot who continues to soar in a great God-given mission. One so big that none of us have any explanation of where it’s going or where it will end. But we do know the Sender and Sustainer — our loving Father whose mission and purpose is perfect and will not fail and never does, even in the fragility of a brave but feeble pilot. The truth of this reality should flood all our own stories with hope. Because ultimately our hope is not in the outcome of the mission, or what happens outside of the cockpit when things get turbulent, it is in God our Father and His nearness and provision as we look faithfully to Him in all things.

Written by Travis Vangsnes