Between the time I passed out and woke up in the Detroit hospital, I have literally no recollection, and so I’m free to make up whatever turn of events I’d like.
My initial go-to is that once we landed, Raul rushed to the back of the cabin, frantically screaming my name until he found me. He knelt down, swooped me up, and raced me off that plane, shouting, “This woman needs a medic!”
Other days, I kind of like the idea of Grandma Lucy walking off that plane (she’s totally fine as I envision the scene in my head because she’s got some kind of Holy Spirit bubble surrounding her that kept the smoke out and the oxygenated air in). Once she gets onto the tarmac, she kneels down, thanks God for his protection, and senses with powerfully divine intuition s that I’m in trouble. At which point she prays for God to send a couple angels to get me off the flight, and these heavenly beings are quick to comply.
It’s also quite possible that my rescue was far more mundane, that the first-responders who were on the scene when we made our descent into Detroit were simply doing their job. Which doesn’t make my survival any less miraculous or my saviors any less heroic.
Now, if this were a little Christian novel I was writing, if I were relying on fiction instead of hardcore, actual fact, I’d probably wrap things up with me on my knees in a hospital room, folding my hands together, praising God for his salvation and begging him to forgive my sins. At which point, I’d probably commit my entire life to becoming a missionary in Africa, taking selfies with a bunch of orphans, all that jazz.
Well, I hate to let you down, but I’ve got to tell things like they are.
Yes, I experienced my first real taste of divine intervention and heavenly power on that flight. No, I will never forget that sense of love that poured into my soul after I passed out.
But that doesn’t mean I turned my life around the second I woke up in the hospital. Even now, weeks after my conversion, I really couldn’t say my life’s been turned around. Turns out this whole Christian walk is a lot harder than it looks, and it took me quite a while before I was ready to actually bend the knee to Christ (figuratively, I should say; I never actually got down and knelt, which Kennedy as well as her pastor assure me isn’t required for salvation).
The other thing you probably wouldn’t expect me to talk about right here is the nightmares I still have about that flight. Sure, I can joke all I want about getting rescued by Math Babe Raul or irresistible SWAT teams in their kick-butt, bullet-proof gear. But more often than not, my dreams are about being stuck in that smoking cabin, realizing I’m not going to make it out alive, knowing that I’m not ready to die.
I guess that just goes to show that even when God swoops down and literally saves you out of the pit of hell, sometimes it still takes a little while before you’re ready to acknowledge him.
After our rescue, I spent my entire semester break in Alaska with Kennedy thinking about what happened to us. Asking her questions about what it would mean if I actually were ready to become a Christian. And she wasn’t pushy. Wasn’t over-zealous to get me to sign on the dotted line. I think she knew I needed to figure all this out in my own time and in my own way.
I was so scared of flying back to campus after all we went through (we were both basket cases on that flight back to campus, truth be told), that I made my first bargain with God. If he gave me that same sense of power and love and protection out on the flight back to campus, I’d spend the upcoming semester studying the Bible and deciding for real if I was ready to get serious about this whole Christianity thing.
Well, there wasn’t anything nearly as dramatic as when I’d passed out in the cabin, but I wasn’t quite as scared as I expected I’d be either. I guess I can say God met me halfway.
So I did the same for him.
Kennedy and I started doing this Bible study together some nights when we were both in our dorm room and she didn’t have her nose buried in her books. I found a couple preachers online I liked and began listening to their podcasts. It was right before Valentine’s Day if I remember correctly that I told Kennedy I was ready to go ahead and jump into the Christian life. At the time, I really didn’t know what that meant, and to be honest, I’m not sure that even now I do. Like I said, I don’t have a clue when it comes to debates about theology or all that jazz. What I do know is that I was saved by God, first physically on that flight and then spiritually just a few weeks ago.
Took me long enough, some believers might say. But I didn’t want to jump into something one minute only to decide a few days or weeks later it wasn’t going to work out. I knew that if I wanted to commit, I needed it to be serious.
Am I serious about my faith now? I think so. Like I said before, I’ve given up partying, at least the aspects of that lifestyle that are inherently sinful. That’s a pretty big deal for someone like me. And I’m studying my Bible with Kennedy. We’re praying together too. It’s like we’re an old married couple saying our bedtime prayers before lights out. Sometimes I feel bad that I wasn’t instantaneously turned into Miss Sunday School Goodie-Goodie like Kennedy right away, but I suppose everybody matures differently, right? At least that’s the excuse I’m telling myself.
Sometimes, I’m a little embarrassed that it took something so drastic as getting my flight hijacked, witnessing a murder, and nearly dying to get me to accept Jesus. I mean, some people hear the gospel once and decide to be saved. And I’ll be the first to admit that the survivor’s guilt is awful. I may not be the best at praying yet, but I do pray for poor Tracy’s family every time I think about her.
Maybe one day I’ll look up her two kids and tell them how brave their mom was. How much she loved them. How she didn’t want to leave them.
But for now, I’m still covering the basics. Trying to remember to read my Bible each day. It still doesn’t make sense how I could have done so many sinful things and I only had to pray once for God to forgive me, so I’m spending a lot of time confessing right now. Just in case I forgot some things the first time.
I think about Kennedy, about how mature she is in her faith. Then I compare that to Grandma Lucy, who I never did manage to find after our plane landed. It can be overwhelming at times, realizing how much I still have to learn. How far I still have to go.
But I guess that’s part of the Christian journey. One step at a time. And maybe what matters isn’t whether or not you’re taking baby steps or giant leaps as long as you’re headed in the right direction.
I certainly hope so at least.
My name is Willow Winters. I’m a theater major. Airplane hijacking survivor. Blue-haired second fiddle.
And now, by the grace of God, I’m saved.
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Thanks for reading Terror in the Skies, book 1 in the Turbulent Skies novella series.
If you’re ready to jump into more fast-paced, action-packed adventures featuring other characters aboard Flight 219, dive into Refined by Fire, book 2 in the Turbulent Skies Christian Thriller series today.
Meredith’s the president of a thriving Christian ministry … until back-biting and political rivalry get her kicked off her own board. Discouraged, heart-broken, and desperate not to grow bitter, Meredith boards Flight 219 where she meets a mother, her child, and the God who’s far bigger than all of their fears.
The Turbulent Skies Christian Thriller series delivers a string of interconnected novellas about strangers traveling together aboard a doomed flight. Find out why Christian fiction readers can't stop raving about this unforgettable, fast-paced series you can devour in a single sitting.
Buy Refined by Fire for an unforgettable high-altitude adventure full of danger, suspense, and life-changing faith. Keep scrolling for a sneak peek, or if you really can’t wait, download your next binge-read immediately!
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