It is better to Light a Candle
than to curse the Darkness.

-Chinese Proverb                                      

Other Spiritual

An airplane story 

A pastor had been on a long flight from one place to another.  The first warning of the approaching problems came when the sign on the airplane flashed on: Fasten your seat belts.  Then, after a while, a calm voice said, 'We shall not be serving the beverages at this time as we are expecting a little turbulencePlease be sure your seat belt is fastened.' 

As he looked around the aircraft, it became obvious that many of  the passengers were becoming apprehensive.  Later, the voice of the announcer said, 'We are so sorry that we are unable to serve the meal at this time.  The turbulence is still ahead of us.' 

And then the storm broke.  The ominous cracks of thunder could be heard even above the roar of the engines.  Lightning lit up the darkening skies, and within moments that great plane was like a cork tossed around on a celestial ocean.  One moment the airplane was lifted on terrific currents of air; the next, it dropped as if it were about to crash.    

The pastor confessed that he shared the discomfort and fear of those around him.  He said, 'As I looked around the plane, I could see that nearly all the passengers were upset and alarmed.  Some were praying. 

The future seemed ominous and many were wondering if they would make it through the storm.  'Then, I suddenly saw a little girl.  Apparently the storm meant nothing to her.  She had tucked her feet beneath her as she sat on her seat; she was reading a book and everything within her small world was calm and orderly. Sometimes she closed her eyes, then she would read again; then she would straighten her legs, but worry and fear were not in her world.  When the plane was being buffeted by the terrible storm, when it  lurched this way and that, as it rose and fell with frightening severity, when all the adults were scared half to death, that marvelous child was completely composed and unafraid.'  The minister could hardly believe his eyes.   It was not surprising therefore, that when the plane finally reached its destination and all the passengers were hurrying to disembark, our pastor lingered to speak to the girl whom he had watched for such a long time.  Having commented about the storm and behavior of the plane, he asked why she had not been afraid.   The child replied, 'Cause my Daddy's the pilot, and he's taking me home.' 

 There are many kinds of storms that buffet us. Physical, mental, financial, domestic, and many other storms can easily and quickly darken our skies and throw our plane into apparently uncontrollable movement.  

We have all known such times, and let us be honest and confess, it is much easier to be at rest when our feet are on the ground than when we are being tossed about a darkened sky.

  Let us remember: Our Father is the Pilot.  He is in control and taking us home.  Don't worry.

 ~Author Unknown~

This story made a difference for me because I have had those dark and stormy times in my life, and I am perfectly aware that they will come again.  It comforts me to know that there is nothing in this world that God and I together can't handle. It gives me courage to face the day when there are no guarantees.

Sometimes God calms the storm; sometimes He calms the child, sometimes both....and even in some terrible sometimes, He is silent and does neither.  That's the challenge of Faith. -Elizabeth



My husband and I live at 2200' on the Big Island of Hawaii. Our couple of acres of forest have been overrun by invasive (non-native) species: strawberry guava, Christmas berry, climbing ferns. In the last few months, I find myself going to the forest a couple of times a week to cut down the invasives and free up the native ohia trees. Probably many of you don't know the ohia tree. It is one of the first plants to grow on a new lava flow, and it grows slowly, in a beautifully twisted manner. Its bark is thick and rugged, its leaves small, gray-green ovals. When it blooms, it creates a brilliant red blossom called lehua, like a three-inch scarlet crown, an explosion of spikes. The Hawaiian legend is that ohia and lehua were lovers who, after a long separation, were reunited by the gods in this plant. If you go online and search for lehua photos, you'll see what this precious tree looks like, and will perhaps understand why I love it so, why it catches my breath with its beauty. On a bright morning, I head up into the forest with my long stick and gloves and handsaw and spend a few hours pulling tough climbing ferns off the ohia. Down they come, old and new, tough and tenacious, showering dirt and debris over me, leaving me panting with the effort. But then comes the payoff. I may spot an apparently dead ohia through the thick ferns; and when I finally free it from its living tomb I'll spy a tender new ohia shoot bursting forth at the base of the tree. The tree is alive! And I have given it another chance to find the light and air it needs to come back.

Isn't that new, striving shoot truly a candle in the darkness? To me, the tree is in recovery: coming back to light and life after a dead, dark time. Gone are the strangling ferns. Now there is hope. As Janet says, I am 'freeing myself by freeing the ohia.' And each saved tree fills my heart with joy and gratitude. This I can do, for myself and for the Earth. - Sally