I Corinthians 13 at 35,000 feet

IF I SPEAK with flawless radio calls and polished announcements, with the confidence of captains and the precision of controllers, but don’t love, I’m nothing but worn-out aircraft brakes— screeching, smoking, and failing to stop the plane.

If I know every manual, every procedure, every system and code, if I can read the weather, anticipate turbulence, and even believe with absolute certainty that a grounded aircraft will somehow be cleared to fly, but I don’t love, I’m nothing.

If I work endless shifts, give up holidays, miss birthdays and sleep, stand in the heat of the ATL ramp in August or the pressure in the cockpit, if I give everything I have to keep the operation moving, but I don’t love, I’ve gone nowhere.

So no matter what I say on the radio, what I know by heart, or how well I do my job, I’m grounded without love.

Love doesn’t give up when the delay stretches on.

Love puts passengers before pride.

Love doesn’t envy the schedule, the route, or the upgrade.

Love doesn’t strut through the terminal or pull rank.

Love isn’t puffed up by stripes, titles, or seniority.

Love doesn’t force its way, doesn’t insist on “my flight, my rules.”

Love doesn’t snap under pressure or turbulence.

Love doesn’t keep a logbook of others’ mistakes.

Love doesn’t take satisfaction when someone else is written up.

Love rejoices when truth lands safely.

Love absorbs delays, trusts through storms, hopes when visibility is zero, and endures to the final destination.

So give it your best shot. Even if you can't Comply 365, Fly with Love—and you’ll always arrive where you’re meant to be.

Copyright February 2026, Gary Landerfelt, MyPericope.com