To say that Art has had a rough life would be an understatement of epic proportions. Hard living, alcoholism, addictions, and child abuse are just the highlights. So, when my grandparents chose to take him in several years ago, when he had nowhere else to go,  I honestly feared for their safety. I feared for the safety of my own family. Art was not stable.

Through the perseverance, tough love, and faithfulness of my grandparents, however, Art accepted Jesus Christ as his Savior 4 years ago and the turnaround began.

Art, for the most part is on his own now but he still has his good days and bad days.  He sometimes finds refuge at my Grandparents, so when I sat down to dinner at their house last week and found out Art would be joining us, I knew he must have been looking for a friendly face. I’m not proud of this but, honestly, I cringed inside. I never know what to expect from Art and generally feel uneasy whenever he’s around. Dinner was uneventful, however, and the conversation turned toward a discussion about our preparations for Africa. Art, for the most part was silent, as he usually is; more interested in leftovers than conversation. But he did ask where we are going and when we are leaving. The conversation wound down and, after thoroughly finishing the contents of the entire table(minus the brussels sprouts), Art looked directly at me and simply asked, “How can I pray for you?”.

My answer was canned at best.  If I am completely honest,  in my mind Art didn’t fit the profile I had created in my mind of a probable teammate. So I simply stated the usual prayer requests of time to pack, the remainder of our support, and our upcoming trip. He nodded and the conversation was over.

Everyday is still a battle for Art; lifelong habits don’t change overnight.  But the reality is, if you ask him how he is doing, the answer is always “Wonderfully Blessed”. With a timid grin he reveals an innocence and purity of faith that Jesus best described in the example of children.  He has a unique commitment to the welfare of others and a desire to offer a lifeline to those who need to be rescued.  When he prays, it is with full expectation of provision and deliverance from the One who rescued him.

So for the past several days the Holy Spirit has been pressing me with this one reality: as a missionary I should have long since learned to see others as He sees them.  But after having lunch with a man I once considered…messy, I realized I was actually in the presence of one who represents the very heart of God .  Here is a man who is a new creation…a prayer warrior…and my brother….  I couldn’t have learned it from anyone else.

Art is a member of our team because God put him there and because we need him there. Whether he understands it entirely or not he is a necessary part of God’s work in East Africa. So when I have the opportunity to fly a missionary, a pastor, a teacher, or a translator to reach some man of Africa whom the world considers…messy, it will be in part because of the sustaining prayers of Art. He has reminded me that God values a mans soul and what is in his heart, not his station in life.

And someday in heaven, an African man will have his big brother, Art, to thank.

I don’t do “crazy”. Calculated yes, but not crazy. Crazy for me is left on the fringes, and for good reason: it just doesn’t belong in the world of air transportation. And I would assume that most of my passengers will agree.

But…I quit my job.

My current employer has been incredibly gracious with our situation. Partly because they love aviation as much as I do (maybe more) but also because they are just like that. Skinner Nursery is a family owned business and over the last year and a half that I have worked there I have seen the owners make many decisions with the intent of keeping as many people employed as possible. It takes a lot of integrity to do that in the current economic climate.  That’s how they are.

However, at some point the next step needs to be taken. But for me to quit my current job goes as something completely against my nature.  While it was not an unanticipated move, it’s still something like jumping into those cold Canadian lakes of my youth.  When Jami and I started this journey 2 years ago and I knew this day was coming.  I was under the impression, however, that everything would be in order by this stage of the game. The house would be sold, we would be well supported, and I could make the logical and safe step into my training. It would be that easy, right?

I’m just not ready yet.

I have had more than one fellow missionary (who are generally further down the road) tell me that there would come a time when I would have to do something crazy. For example, resigning your position without answers to all the questions. What will I do? How will I pay for it? What if this?  What if that? All these linger in my head as March 1^st fast approaches, but I don’t have answers.

What I do know is this….

God has called us. Jami and I each have a part to play in Africa and, economy or not, He will see us through to completion. You, our support team, have been incredibly faithful and generous.  So one answer I know of is that just enough funds have been provided for us to take the next step; and so we will. From the beginning God has only asked us to take the next step and maybe that’s not so bad.

So, resigning is not a resignation…

Instead it’s a faith filled acceptance of where God wants me.  An acceptance that keeps me vulnerable and trusting in His provision. Maybe it’s not as big of a step as I think it is.  But it is a resignation…no, a submission…of myself and my family to His care.  He knows there will be bigger issues down the road, and He knows I’ll need the practice.

Me and my family going to Africa without faith in His provision…..now that’s crazy!

At some point during a professional pilots’ career it will happen; or so the statistics tell us.  For me, it’s now been three times.  You will lose a friend, a colleague, an aviator, to the unforgiving nature of the job and suddenly the romance of aviation fades into the horizon.

The first time was almost three years ago to the day, August 27^th, 2006.  The crew of Comair flight 5191 chose a shorter than required runway and, unable to gain flying speed, came to rest in the rolling hills surrounding Lexington, Kentucky.  It was a Sunday morning.  Two days prior I sat in the crew room with Captain Jeffrey Clay, the pilot who was in command of that fatal flight.  I’d seen him around several times before.  But on this day, he and I sat directly across the table from one another and conversed as the president of our airline addressed company issues in a town-hall style meeting.  I don’t remember what the meeting was about or what Captain Clay and I discussed.  What I do remember, is that it had nothing to do with emergencies or accidents.  In fact, nothing could have been further from our minds than the reality of what would happen less than 48 hours later.

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…Continue reading From Brian’s Logbook »

You’d like to think you can act like an adult in moments that call for professionalism and couth.  When Scott presented us with that Letter of Determination Brian and I both made a valiant effort to read from “Dear Brian and Jami” through the formalities and particulars of his evaluation.  But at some point we both retreated and dropped to the bottom line like a three year old on Christmas morn.

 We are pleased to recommend Brian Staples as a pilot for AIM Air.

Brian training for his exams

It’s not often my husband reveals his inner thoughts for public review, but when I looked up at him the right corner of his mouth was turned up, restraining a smile.  Then he looked at me, uninhibited and grinning like a smitten schoolgirl, licensing him to slide down in his chair, hang his tongue out the corner of his mouth like a beagle and release a growl of relief, articulating so eloquently how we both were feeling.

 He arrived Friday morning the 14^th and received a couple of pilot handbooks and manuals and was told to come back Monday morning “ready to fly”.  Monday night as Brian recounted the days events to me, he hesitated to call it flying!  Having never flown this specific style of aircraft (a Helio tail-dragger, for our aviation enthusiasts out there) he explained to me that by the end of the day he wanted to grab it by the collar and slap it into submission.  Instead, as my hero always does, he showed up Tuesday morning with new resolve and a big ‘ol set of spurs!  Needless to say, by the time Thursday rolled around he was eager to debrief and ‘tie down’ for a sleepless night by 8:30pm.

 In all seriousness, as we recounted the many weeks of anxiety and preparation, we both felt humbled by the Lord’s provision: bringing the money we needed for the evaluation in one 11^th hour gift, allowing me to flee to California so he could turn our house into “The Zone” for the entire week, and of course, giving him every bit of stamina and charisma to “press on toward the goal” and claim his prize!  Truly, God was in, over, and around the entire event and has again proven to be the God of Perfect Provision.

 So, from here, we begin!  We are scheduled to have our ties cut and ready for his 8 week Technical Orientation by early September of 2009.  That means we have to have our entire support budget raised, our house sold, our bodies immunized, our bags half-packed and have learned enough Swahili to say “where’s the bathroom” in 10 short months!   I think we’re going to need a bigger set of spurs!