What goes up must come down, but not always right away. Consider the case of the human hailstones. As most of us learned in grade school, hailstones are formed during thunderstorms when falling ice crystals are repeatedly tossed skyward by updrafts, forming successive coats of ice before plunging to the ground.
But your teacher probably didn’t tell you about Lieutenant Colonel William Rankin.
In 1959, the pilot bailed out of his plane when the engine failed 47,000 feet above Virginia. From that distance, it should’ve taken him 13 minutes to land. But when he jumped into the middle of a raging storm, Rankin got caught in vertical air currents that kept him aloft for 45 minutes as he tumbled about in minus-seventy-degree temperatures. Covered in ice and sleet, his body bruised by hailstones, he finally managed to open his chute at 10,000 feet and land safely in a North Carolina tree, 65 miles from where he bailed out.
Sixteen years later, veteran skydiver Mike Mount made a jump 4,500 feet over Maryland, expecting a two-minute ride to the ground. There was a storm brewing at the time, but Mount thought he could steer his way through the darkening clouds. Big mistake.
Soon after he dove out, he got sucked up to 10,000 feet. Again and again, he was swept up and dropped down by frigid, frenzied winds. The skydiver thought about cutting away his parachute so he could free fall through the storm, relying on his reserve chute to save him, but he worried he might not be able to see the ground approaching. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
After what seemed an eternity, the storm released its grip and Mount landed nine miles from his intended drop zone, cold but unharmed. His wild and bewildering ride had lasted 30 minutes.
Which of us hasn’t felt like those human hailstones? Maybe you’re caught up in a situation not of your own making, with no choice but to jump into the storm. Through no fault of your own, you’re tossed mercilessly from one emotional extreme to the other, whipped by the cold, uncompromising winds of pain and turmoil. You’re misunderstood or judged unfairly. People question your character, motives and integrity, or the depth of your faith. Powerless and absolutely petrified, you’re pounded by icy accusations. As your heart gets coated by layer-upon-layer of soul-numbing sleet, it’s hard not to feel God is absent or unconcerned, especially when the upheaval lasts so very long.
Or perhaps you find yourself in the storm because of your own sin or stupidity which feels even worse, whether it was a miscalculation, or a blatant me-first mentality that cast you into the unforgiving current of circumstances beyond your control. You’re swept up, thrown down, swept up, thrown down, and on it goes with no end in sight. Desperate, you’re tempted to cut lose whatever you were counting on for safety and security when you took the plunge, falling back on your faith in God’s grace — that reserve chute you’ve always packed, just in case. But even that seems too risky when you’re tossed about by fear and doubt, so you give in to the hopelessness and wait for the final fall.
But regardless of how or why you’ve ended up in the storm, don’t be surprised when your Father sees you safely through. You may be bruised and battered, you may end up far from where you wanted to be, but He’ll never abandon you. If that seems hard to believe while you’re tumbling through uncontrollable turmoil, remember that being caught up and let down is better than being thrown to destruction. Your Father is keeping you aloft while you, or those around you, learn and grow. Cry out to him. Have faith and patience. Don’t despair. God will let you down, but He won’t disappoint you.