Breaking Thru

Breaking Thru
Tuesday, November 7, 2023 by Phyllis Kester

Pilot with Phyllis and Monty beside his small plane. Sometimes, something blocks or skews our vision of reality.

In 2008, our sense of adventure led Monty and me to stay with the Alaskan pilots flying small planes for taxi service or flight-seeing around Denali National Park. In the summer, they operated from a location at the end of the 94-mile gravel road deep into the park. We discovered the Kantishna Air Taxi pilots have five rooms (Skyline Lodge) that they rent out to guests who eat and live as they do.

Our short time socializing and eating with the pilots gave us a peek at the lives of these courageous, unsung heroes and their lives during the summers. Their little dirt runway with planes parked in the grass reminded us that we were in a different setting. Seeing their solar panels and greenhouse to keep their place operational in the summer reinforced just how remote we were. Two planes in the grass beside their dirt runway.

On our last day, we returned from our hike to find a man pleading with the pilots to fly him to a small town on the opposite side of Mt. McKinley because he was one of the essential participants in a wedding to occur the next day. I don’t remember all that had happened to put him in this dire situation—I simply remember these pilots were his only remaining chance. The weather had canceled other flights, and there was no way he could get there in time by driving.

I sensed the tension in the air as the pilots and support team studied their maps and radar and the weather closing in. Finally, one pilot announced he saw one possibility, but it would only last briefly. It was a tiny sliver of space that hung close to one side of McKinley, that was open the whole distance around the mountain where they must go. This pilot swung out of his chair and proclaimed, “I’ll take you if we leave immediately!” Which they did. But they left behind a group of tense people with eyes glued on multiple screens and mumbling about whether, even if he made it, would he be able to get back home safely before his slim window of weather closed?

After a while, Monty and I went to bed since we were leaving the following day. After all we had heard, we were concerned and prayed for the pilot and small plane in the dangerous conditions he was undertaking to get the man to his daughter’s wedding. Although exhausted from our day of hiking, I couldn’t go to sleep because I kept listening for the sound of that small plane returning. Only after hearing it later was I finally able to fall asleep.

Mt. McKinley or Denali viewed from the south side. The next day, as Monty and I prepared to fly out of our remote location, I was very discouraged. We had requested to fly close to Denali as we flew out, but now—the sky was gray and overcast. The pilot told me not to despair because Mt. McKinley (Denali) is so large it causes its own weather systems. He put me and my camera in the front beside him, Monty behind us, and we were off into a foggy sky. He said he would see if we could get above the clouds because McKinley (at 20,320 feet height) is so tall it is often in the sunshine above the clouds. However, I kept looking at the circumstances surrounding us and thinking about the fact that we were only 20 miles from the north face of the mountain. How could these thick clouds clear up in only 20 miles?

Suddenly, our little plane popped above the clouds into the sunlight, and we could see several mountain peaks sticking their heads up through the clouds. It struck me that sometimes I get my eyes on the clouds blocking my view of the sun—yes, even the real Son, but He is always there, just as the sun was shining brilliantly above all the clouds. A closeup of a mountain peak sticking above the clouds.

Now, whenever I feel surrounded by clouds of fear, doubt, or chaos of circumstances and wonder when or if I will break through, I picture that day breaking through the clouds. It gave me a visual picture to remember that God is still there—just as the sun was above the clouds—whenever a cloud tries to block my view of God. After all, when Jesus was preparing his disciples for his coming betrayal, death, and resurrection, he told them, “Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” (John 14:27)

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