The flight was almost cancelled. The previous flight had been full, so full in fact that they told us we were overweight and two gracious travelers volunteered to take a voucher and another flight. There may have been clapping as the rest of us were happy not to be involved in a lottery-for-seats situation.

I knew that we were flying into a storm but it was spring in North Dakota so there will always be snow. At some point, the quick trip began to catch up to me. It was a fly in, move furniture, pack out and clean out, visit family then fly out trip — all in a three-day period.
I’m generally allergic to exercise so every muscle in my body was sore. I didn’t sleep well away from home and frankly I was bloated and grumpy. I just wanted to get home to my bed, my dogs and my people.

The pilot announced that we were within the weight limit and had taken on extra fuel since the weather was getting worse at our destination. It’s in moments like these when my anxiety begins to climb so I leaned on my faith. I listened to a whole playlist of my Jesus music so I could just close my eyes and focus on the good news.

I must have drifted off to sleep because I woke to a piercing brightness. We were flying above the storms and the moment was surreal, just a perfect reflection of how we can be stuck in the storm and forget that above the craziness around us there beautiful peace and light.
The next time I awoke, we were descending into the storm to make our way to our destination. The only lights that glowed were the random homestead’s light or an oil pad flare, the rest of the land was a shadow of buttes and snow.

As we came in for approach, I texted my better half that we were landing. I knew that he had just gotten home from a daunting trip of his own and was wrangling the kids and dogs.

I and my fellow passengers sat in that little plane watching the snowplows that had just spent time clearing the runways so that we could land. There I was without a coat, in capris and flats ready to deplane and all I could think was, “thank you, Lord that my husband will be waiting for me with a coat in the lobby of our little airport.”

Yet as I swept into that little lobby, there was no better half waiting holding out a coat (like the last time when I didn’t check the weather before taking a trip). What? I was so confused. So while waiting on the luggage to get unloaded, I stepped outside, thinking that maybe he was waiting in a warm truck in line to pick me up. I kept checking my phone for a text but nothing?

Frustrated at this point, I went back inside and waited for my bags and watching the door for his late arrival. He didn’t come. Finally my bags were unloaded and I struggled to drag my rolling suitcase through the parking lot to where my truck was parked. My truck that was covered in snow and ice.

I started crying. I struggled to get that suitcase into the truck then, using my hands, I wiped enough snow off the side of the door to open it and crank it up. I sat there hysterically crying… because I realized that I took for granted for all the times that my better half has thought ahead for me.

He always shovels out the driveway before leaving for work, so I won’t have to. He heats up my truck to make my day start off warm. He’s thoughtful and constant in how he cares for me… and I took that for granted on a day when he had just as much going on as I did.
I defrosted enough of the windshield that I could inch my way home. I was cold and tired, still crying and snotting all over myself when as I pulled onto our street, I see my husband there finishing up shoveling the driveway so I can pull into the garage.

— Kalynn Brazeal is a conservative, Christian wife/mom/country girl carrying around an MBA, several decades of business experience and a strong opinion. Now living in the remoteness of North Dakota, she continues to share her column on life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness and cake. She can be reached by email at