I was nervous as we waited for takeoff. The heavy snow pounding the runway and the gusts causing our Southwest Airlines airplane to tremble were conjuring up feelings of anxiety and vulnerability inside of me.
This was the worst weather we had experienced on the runway in my four years at Fordham, and I thought for sure we were destined for an about-face and a short trip back to the safety of the airport. But our pilot had other ideas and decided to brave the elements and take off for St. Louis. A mistake, I thought, for sure.
As the several tons of steel accelerated along the runway, I braced my armrest in fear of what I could not control. The plane was going to take flight, no matter the intensity of my trepidation. I had to trust that our operators were prepared to lead us through the storm and that, ultimately, God was in control.
The airplane emerged from the pavement with uncertainty, struggling initially to find its balance. As we moved higher and higher above the East River, we were captured in a sea of gray. The same storm clouds that were the source of my anxiety had engulfed us in their rage and shaded any comforting colors and sights of progress from view. It was as though we were moving at a rapid speed but not really headed anywhere, or at least not anywhere promising.
Then, in a matter of minutes (which felt like hours), we emerged into what appeared to be a different stratosphere. Our ascension through the clouds had carried us above the storm and into the midst of the brightest blue sky and sunshine I had ever seen. Below us, feathery clouds gave the impression that they were cradling our aircraft and softening its weight, along with the burden of my fears.
We had literally traveled out of the darkness and into the light.
Following the fear and uncertainty I had endured at the beginning of our flight, the rest of the journey was as smooth as one could imagine, with rays of sunlight illuminating the cabin and horizons stretching farther than my eyes could see.
That flying experience somewhat mirrored our softball journey since the first week of February. Although it may appear different to outsiders, this season has been a stormy one at times, as rough experiences and bad days during our tough preconference stretch of traveling and playing sometimes left us with doubts about the remainder of our time together in uniform. For me personally, things have often felt gray. It is as though my senior season has been passing me by at rapid speed, and I've been unable to see any color along the way to brighten my journey because of several instances that have, at times, clouded its enjoyment.
But our recent flight has given me great hope for all that lies ahead. Trusting that we have already braved the storm and are destined for beautiful forecasts in the future, I am optimistic.
As we begin our Atlantic 10 Conference slate and our championship defense, it is important for me to remember all that I realized and experienced aboard Flight 395 to St. Louis. No matter how uncertain or daunting things may have seemed during these past six weeks, I believe that every struggle has served as a test of our durability and of our ability to trust in the process and the greater plan for our season. It is crucial to know that on an airplane, in softball and in life, it is often the time spent in darkness that allows one to truly appreciate the light.
I know the light lies ahead.