5 PAST 12

IN ANOTHER REALM

We were about 10 people aboard the plane; the pilots, flight attendants, two other visiting evangelists from Abidjan, myself and my husband. The plane left the tarmac in Accra around 10 PM and was scheduled to land in Nairobi in approximately 4 hours. The weather was conducive, the jet was in perfect condition, the pilots were white men and for me that was enough consolation and assurance that everything was going to be alright but yes you guessed right, something happened that changed my life forever.

My husband had been engaged in a conversation with the evangelists from the very hour we left Accra until it was about 11 PM Ghana time. I cannot explain how he managed to pick a rapport with them with regards to the fact that I had never heard him speak French. Well, I minded my business until he returned to his original seat next to me. He squeezed my hand teasingly and then smiled widely. He then passed a comment that rather made me lose my sleep for the few hours we had left on the aircraft.

“I may go out. Whatever happens don’t call me, just talk to God, you will be okay”

I instantly freaked out so much so that I almost yelled his first name. Where in the heavens could he be going when we were more than five thousand feet above sea level? He noticed that I became uncomfortable but he was not perturbed one bit. He only held unto my hand and then leaned back into his seat. Before I could say another word, He had already drowned into deep slumber. I tried to get myself collected and remained calm yet it wasn’t exactly working. It was a couple of minutes to midnight and the low temperature of the air condition was freezing my fingers, numbing them and as I unclenched my fingers from my husband’s, the turbulence rocked the jet almost tossing me over to the floor. It was terrifying. Everyone panicked and began to pray except my husband who was far gone. At exactly midnight one of the engines failed, which we all literally felt. The captain of the plane tried to keep composure to relax our nerves as I began to recite Psalm 91 solemnly beneath my breath.

I shook my husband’s hand rigorously but he wouldn’t wake up, he wouldn’t even flinch. I immediately remembered his words that if anything should happen, I must not call him and so I began to talk to God. As soon as I gathered the courage to say “dear Lord”, the oxygen masks deployed from the ceiling of the jet and that even drove me crazy. I knew we were in big trouble. Before the next minute the other engine stopped functioning and all we could hear were emergency beeps. The wings of the plane began to tilt in a very obvious and frightening fashion, the nose of the plane tilted towards the ground and we all knew we were gradually going down. The evangelists unbuckled their seatbelts and laid prostrate as though they were praying. I held firmly unto my husband’s hand in hopes that he would open his eyes but no; and there I was dumbfounded.

At exactly 5 minutes past 12 midnight, he opened his eyes suddenly. It looked peaceful... like a river, his palms felt warm like he had been under the sun and his skin was just… I still cannot describe it but yes, he felt different. He looked like he had been somewhere. By this time, the plane was descending a little faster than usual and what happened next changed my entire perspective of God.

My husband did not panic, he only closed his eyes, opened his palms and like a bolt from the blue a mysterious hand held the plane straight and carried it.

It was like nothing I had ever experienced in my life. Were the engines revived? Absolutely not. All we felt was as though we were in a palanquin with a giant hand carrying us to wherever it wanted. In that moment, we cared less about where we were going: all that mattered were the tears in our eyes and the worship on the plane. Our British pilots who weren't christians, fell on their knees as tears dripped from the corners of the eyes unto their seats.

Our lips could not utter a word, all we did was cry throughout and that was the most acceptable worship our spirits could offer God in whose hand we practically soared in. When we arrived in Nairobi, the spirit in the congregation was charged and after a few minutes of the sermon, every single soul was seated with tears flooding every eye and the same hand touching everyone. I saw it with my eyes. The power of God moved in such a unique silent way, without songs, without instruments, without shouting. Just a silent breeze and all we could do was to cry intimately.

Our flight back to Accra was the smoothest and for the first time all I could think of was God, not even my husband. I just craved God more and more and the beauty of his presence and his existence was more satisfying than anything my mind could conceive.

“Honey, I want to talk to God like you do” I asked my husband

“So talk to him” he responded rather simply

“No I mean... like you do. How do you do it?”

“I actually do nothing. He does it all”

“So how do I start?”

“Sweetie, just go to Him and wait, He will show up… in His own way. Just wait” My husband smiled

After what I had seen on that plane, you could bet that I was not going to let this go. He must show up!

THE END