Are We OK?

Nicole Johnson reflects on two frightening events that forced her to consider where she turns when fear threatens to take over. 

I can still hear the loud crack that ricocheted through the otherwise quiet cabin, instantly sending more than 100 passengers into a panic. None of us knew what had caused the strange noise, but we were all well aware it wasn’t a sound one should hear on a commercial flight cruising thousands of feet in the air.

My first thought was one of misplaced relief, acknowledging that my husband and all three children were on the flight together so, if anything should happen, at least we wouldn’t be leaving anyone in our immediate pack behind. I made sure to address the wide eyes beside me immediately with my best forced “I’m sure everything is just fine” mama smile and then looked across the aisle to my husband, silently pleading with him to assure me all was OK. 

The stunned silence broke with the desperate plea from a passenger for someone to answer, “What is going on?” The pilot mercifully came over the loudspeaker explaining that our plane had been hit by lightning, but he had carefully reviewed all the instruments, which were functioning normally. 

Whom Do You Look to When You Are Afraid? 

Thinking back, I am struck by two things. First, in this small space, there were literally hundreds of stories – men, women, children, all with different backgrounds, different goals, in different phases of life. But the instant our plane was hit by lightning, we were all equal — every one of us was as vulnerable as the next. Second, human nature pulls us to look to one another for comfort and assurance. We tend to base our response according to how we see others reacting. This raises the question for me: Whom do I look to when I am vulnerable, not in control, and searching for answers? 

A few weeks ago, New Hampshire recorded the largest earthquake since 1940. I was happily breakfasting with a close friend at a small diner when we heard what sounded like an explosion, then felt the ground rumble, followed by a second louder explosion, and a rumble of even greater intensity. After the first “boom,” one of the waitresses shouted, “What was that?” She hadn’t even finished her question before the second “boom and rumble” hit.

I looked across the table to my friend who had her purse in hand, ready to make a quick exit. It only took a few seconds for someone to claim it must have been an earthquake, so we both reached for our phones for confirmation. Once we had a second to process things and realized we didn’t need to eat and run, I looked around and found it rather comical that the other patrons barely seemed to take a pause from their eggs and hashbrowns before transitioning back to life as normal.   

The moment that earthquake hit, every one of us in that restaurant was leveled in our vulnerability. At that moment, it didn’t matter what plans we had in front of us for the day, what problems might have kept us up the night before or how much we had in our bank accounts. The human instinct to simply survive whatever was happening was suddenly bumped to the top of everyone’s to-do list for the day.

In the midst of any sort of fearful situation, I think it’s fair to say we all want the same thing: the assurance that things will be OK. When we are on a plane, we look to the flight attendants. When we are digesting a diagnosis, we look to our doctor. A particularly stressful financial situation has us searching for a qualified advisor. And an explosive noise and earth rumbling has us looking to … the lady sitting next to us enjoying her muffin and coffee? The guy gobbling up his bacon and eggs?  

There are not always answers to what leaves us in fear. We have more information at our fingertips than ever before, but life isn’t always something we can make sense of, no matter how many ways we adjust our Google search. This information age has left us increasingly uncomfortable with being uncomfortable. And maybe, just maybe, it’s because we forget to look to the One — the only one — who has all the right answers.

Rather, we tend to reach for our phones, trusting a particular news channel, a Facebook vent or any stream of consciousness that is in line with our own priorities and therefore leaves us feeling, at least on some superficial level, comfortable — until we’re not.  

We Don’t Need to Have the Answers to Have Peace 

We are living in the unknown, yet, the simple truth of not knowing what tomorrow may bring is no different than what our counterparts have faced since the beginning of time. We are surrounded by questions today, and will be tomorrow and the day after that. So we are left with two choices. We can look at the unknown with fear, bitterness, and despair, or we can look at the opportunity— and freedom — it brings to hand it all over and trust in God.    

Whether the answers are to be revealed to us today, next year or perhaps not while we walk this earth, there is — I promise — peace to be found in knowing we don’t need to know it all. We are all equal in the love that is unconditionally offered to us, and the best way to wrap yourself in it is with the beginning of a conversation: a simple prayer, a request, a handing over.

We can drown in despair, or we can find hope in prayer, in the unchanging truth that there is Someone we can always look to, Someone quietly whispering through the noise, “I’ve got this."

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Copyright 2025 Nicole Johnson
Images: Canva