The dark ceiling swallowed mountaintops, squeezing plane and pilot toward rocks below. No flying over or around them today. Fickle clouds behind closed off returning home. Navigating the twisting rolls and folds between hills remained the only open path. “No problem,” he assured himself, reciting memorized mantra. “Slow the airplane to eighty knots. Lower flaps to twenty degrees. Complete the checklist.”

He found the one correct valley. It required flight at 5,500 feet or higher to clear the route. That also put him just below the angry roof. He snuggled the plane right, close to the canyon wall. That gave maximum room on the left for an escape turn.

In here, senses lied. What looked like level flight might actually be descent, climb, or turn. His eyes flicked to the instruments then back outside. More power needed to maintain altitude would reveal a downdraft pushing him toward the ground. But less power meant an updraft lifting him into peak-obscuring clouds. Look outside to avoid smashing into jagged crags. Look inside to learn the truth.

Sometimes, life squeezes us toward rocky horror devoid of escape. Instinct screams, “Pull up, you fool!” Yet, even then, looking to quiet truth while keeping a wise eye on jutting destruction reveals a way out—no matter how convoluted.

So, what happened the last time you didn’t yield to fear but trusted Him all the way through the maze to sun lit plains on the other side?

Psalm 9:10; Psalm 20:1-8; John 16:12-15; Proverbs 1:32-33; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13