Maverick, Goose, Jesus, and Me

I am a child of the late 80's/early 90's. Upon moving back from Germany to the States in 1987, a welcome home gift was the movie "Top Gun" on VHS. Oh yeah. A young Tom Cruise, Val Kilmer, Kelly McGillis, music by Kenny Loggins... does it really get any better, Iceman? I don't think so.


I do think it somewhat odd that a certain scene from the movie came to mind this past Sunday morning while I was praying at the altar during church. Midway through the movie, during a flying exercise at the Top Gun school, Maverick and Goose's aircraft flies through Iceman's jetwash and they begin to lose control. The situation escalates, Maverick fights for control of the aircraft until completely losing control - ending with the jet in a "flat spin."


Iceman can only watch and radio back that Maverick's in trouble and heading out to sea.


Maverick and Goose are talking throughout this fast-paced and charged scene. As the jet spins, the centrifugal forces pin Maverick against the canopy of the cockpit. "This is not good" is one line that comes to mind. The scene climaxes with Maverick calling repeatedly to Goose, "Eject! Eject! Eject! Eject!" Goose is finally able to reach the ejection handles and they are ejected, Maverick safely, Goose fatally hurt when he is ejected into the canopy.


This scene is a very apropros metaphor of what my life has become. One event set a series of thoughts, feelings, questionings, and doubts spiralling into my life. And I fought for control. I am a man, a guy - that's what we do - fight for control. I just wanted to fight it out, right my aircraft, and keep going mach 10 with my hair on fire. That didn't happen.


The harder I fight for control, the worse the spin. I am losing my bearings - I have a pretty good feeling that I could completely lose the horizon, not able to even correctly point towards the heavens or the earth.


And I know it's happening and I fight harder. I am in a flat spin. I can communicate with everyone around me. I can remain calm amidst the chaos. But, as we all have, I have learned to hide it - to put up the facade. The worse the spin, though, the more the reality of my crashing comes through.


But you know... as I think about it, I'm not sure I'm even calling "eject!" I am alone in the cockpit. (How ironic the whole, Jesus is my co-pilot bit.) There are three courses of action from here: 1) crash 2) regain control (not likely at this point) 3) someone else has to pull the eject handles.


At one point in my faith journey, I could have just turned to Him and asked. "If it's not too much trouble there Lord, mind reaching over and pulling that cord hanging there?" No problemo. Right now, I'm not there.


To carry the analogy futher, I have wingmen. They know who they are. All some of them can do is radio back and say, "Bryan is in trouble, he's heading out to sea." But there are a select few who posses supernatural abilities, who are willing to miracle their way into my aircraft and pull the handles. One I met this past Sunday for the first time. Others I've known for years.


I suppose that's why it's so important for men to have a couple of guys who know us. Because we don't ask for help. We're in control and we feel that we can regain control when necessary. But what about when we're in a flat spin? When we're pinned to the glass, heading out to sea? We need an intercessor, someone who can do what we cannot.


Truly, I hope that my friends can turn to God and start handing control of their own aircraft over to Him. Again, I am not there. I have gotten myself in such a predicament that I don't trust myself to let go of the stick and turn the aircraft over to Him. Wow.

Wingmen cannot do it all. There has to be a cusp that, when reached, a decision must be made on my part; to hand over control... or crash on my own.