By Linda Evans Shepherd
I was having a really bad day. The kind of day that makes you question all your life choices and pack extra deodorant.
It started somewhere between Dallas and San Antonio, where I was napping in seat 27A, minding my own business, when my eyes suddenly snapped open.
Something wasn’t right. I looked up to see smoke curling out of the air vent.
I blinked. Then I leaned toward the man beside me and whispered, “Is that … smoke?” He looked pale. As if he’d just read his own obituary. He nodded slowly, eyes wide.
Then the captain came on the intercom with that eerily calm pilot voice they use when they’re trying not to say, “Brace for impact.” “Ladies and gentlemen, the jet is on fire. We’ve been instructed to return to Dallas for an emergency landing.”
The Great Turnaround
Now, I’m no aviation expert, but even I know 747s don’t turn on a dime.
Except, somehow, ours did. Midair. We banked hard and barreled back toward Dallas at an altitude so low I could read a church sign in Grapevine, Texas. As a Christian speaker, I noticed that detail—and I remember praying, “Lord, I never got a chance to speak at that church.”
The runway was lined with fire trucks and ambulances, red lights blinking like a divine Christmas display.
But the landing? Smooth as butter. The pilot stood at the jet door like a greeter at Cracker Barrel, shaking each of our hands. I could tell—he was thanking God for every single soul who stepped off his plane. We were all handed a $5 food court voucher, which felt like a pretty modest reward for not dying in a fireball.
Chaos Makes an Encore
You’d think that was the end of the drama. I thought the chaos was over—but God had a few more plot twists.
After the opening session of the National Speakers Association convention, someone invited me to a prayer meeting in the penthouse. Considering I’d just survived a near plane crash, I knew I’d better be there. The elevator was packed tighter than a Sunday potluck line. Just as we neared the top of the skyscraper, the elevator jolted—and stopped. Dead. Between floors.
At first, we all stood there in awkward silence. Then came the realization: we were trapped. No air, no escape, and no exits—just a whole lot of speakers who suddenly had plenty of new material. Eventually, the doors were pried open by the local fire department.
The next floor was a good three feet above my head. Since I was closest to the front, everyone just sort of … looked at me.
Without a vote or a hallelujah, I was first in line.
A Leap of Faith
Now, here’s where it gets fun. I was wearing a mid-length skirt with an elastic waistband, and—I’ll confess—I’d forgotten my slip at home. The idea of climbing out of my skirt in front of a dozen strangers made me hesitate.
Hard. But I didn’t have to decide.
The big guy in the back took matters into his own hands—literally. Without warning, he picked me up and tossed me through the open elevator door like a carry-on bag.
I landed belly-first on the hallway carpet and slid a good six feet like a shuffleboard puck.
And do you know what I realized while sliding across the floor of that fancy hotel? My skirt wasn’t about to fall off. Turns out, my hips were doing the Lord’s work that day. Later that night, I watched Dan Rather describe our near-death flight on the news.
It’s always a good day when you can watch the burning jet you survived from the comfort of a hotel room while sitting on your bed munching trail mix. And about that church in Grapevine—the one I thought I’d never speak at? I eventually did. And let me tell you, I had one unforgettable opener.
What’s the Point of All This?
Sometimes, the worst days are sneakily wrapped beginnings.
Sometimes, flaming jets and stuck elevators turn into connection, laughter, and even calling. In fact, I’ve had dinner—twice—with people I met on that elevator. We laugh now. We remember. We marvel.
God doesn’t just redeem moments. He reroutes them— and often, the deeper miracles are uncovered when you surrender to trusting God in the chaos. That’s the secret: never surrender to chaos. Surrender in it—to the One who’s still writing your story.
“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” — Lamentations 3:22–23 (NIV)
So if your plans are up in smoke or stuck between floors? Don’t panic. You’re not finished. You’re just being redirected. And who knows? Maybe your hips are wider than you think.
Linda Evans Shepherd, the publisher of Leading Hearts, and the founder of the Advanced Writers and Speakers Association. Watch for her new book Praying the Word for Women 90 Scripture-Powered Prayers to Calm an Anxious Heart from Christian Art Gifts out later this year.
