My husband and I got lost on our way to my grandparents’ cabin a few weeks ago. The adventure resulted in a lesson in communication, new tires for my car, and a return trip to the cabin the following weekend (bummer, right?). It also dawned in me a new appreciation for mission aviation…because we were alone and remote.

On Friday we loaded up our cooler, car tools, manual espresso machine, and homework, and then made the 258 miles trek to reach the high desert mountains before nightfall. Our goals: fix the car, complete the homework, enjoy a getaway.

We didn’t make it before dark, but Luke knew exactly which washboard roads to get us to our destination. While he worked on Hebrew and tire jacking, I read, cooked and thought about the beauty around me. The September peacefulness allowed big horned sheep to graze on the ridges. Untouched sagebrush. Honey lattes. Aggressive wasps. Sparkling water. No cell phone service.

To be honest, we had access to a dishwasher and TV at the cabin, but our elevation cut off other accustomed conveniences. If either of us had needed emergency care or another vehicle part, help was miles away in a nearby small town (if they had it).

I had noted the little airstrips we passed on our journey because I read stories all day at work about how mission aviation can create a life-and-death difference. Today countless people live beyond roads, across jungles, ravines, peaks or oceans that cut them off from easy travel.

Our beautiful, dangerous location gave me just a tiny taste of why MAF is needed around the world. I’m thankful we can trust God no matter how far away a grocery store or quality hospital. He is in control.

And He is willing to use small airplanes and small efforts by His servants as tools to reach isolated people both with the Gospel and with physical help.

Who knew flat tires could prompt so much pondering?