When life gives you lemons, (or Iowa gives you corn), create a new recipe?!

I arrived on Friday afternoon via commercial jet, anticipating "rollercoaster-hands-in-the-air" nonstop levels of spectacular, earth-shattering fun the following day, only to discover a painfully baffling miscommunication. My whole group planned to fly back Saturday morning, rather than Sunday! 

So, during precious hours remaining on Friday, we fly in silky smooth air, taking off on a grass airstrip, nostalgia stirring inside for childhood flying days with Grandpappy in his PT19 open cockpit on the farm. We raid the cooler while sitting under an airplane wing in lawn chairs, buttery thick Midwest evening sun draping across each tree branch, lining each leaf with hazy tangerine light. Peace. As thick as the air. Cicadas buzz their way through the evening, interrupting our conversations as we skip dinner, choosing instead to embrace camaraderie of friends only seen once a year.

Stars shimmer, poking though black one by one, nearly drowned by the moon’s brightness. “Isn’t this magical?” My friend remarks, stopping to take it all in. Right here, right now, these few hours are worth every penny.  

I find myself alone Saturday after my buddies fly out early, initially not very thrilled about it, despite their help with establishing several new connections. Knowing God never leaves me stranded, once again I throw my trust in His ability to come through, searching for Him in the midst. And He never fails.

I serendipitously meet an older gentleman who flies for United, owns the sailboat I dream of owning one day, and whose wife graciously brings me a surprise cup of ice cream. Shortly thereafter, I connect with an aviation photographer (yep, we “nerd out” over camera gear), and humbly accept a staff member’s invitation to perch near a “VIP spot” at the airstrip’s end, and with great kindness, she introduces me to many new people. I revel in the joys of common ground, discovering others share my passion for America, free enterprise, serving our country, and travel as a biproduct of aviation.

By that evening, thick peach cream colored light dribbles over the horizon, and I began ripping frenetically through the Canon’s SD card, feverishly photographing every airplane silhouette, rays of pink light illuminated by dusty air. After the last minutes of precious “golden hour” sun that every photographer yearns to utilize, I mosey over for a rip-roaring good time at the Pilot’s Pub. In my mind, I prepare to stay for just one cocktail, yet find myself laughing, joking, and listening to stories until well after 11:30pm!

I flew back Sunday afternoon. I share this to offer encouragement- of finding the silver lining in spite of unexpected disappointments and loneliness. I looked forward to this trip for several months, and although unintentionally solo for most of it, I returned with a host of new friends, memories, a more resilient spirit unwilling to succumb to life’s punches, and thanking God for never leaving me stranded. (But hopefully next year will go a bit more according to plan!)