I learned this evening that I was painfully afraid of bats as a little boy. The item was one of the stories my mom shared with our table over dinner, about how I used to be scared of walking in the dark because a bat might attack.

S chimed in that one of our sons used to be quite fearful of thunderstorms, owls — even haircuts.

Another son has struggled with fears of plane travel, something that I too have feared in the past.

We discussed those feelings today as our family boarded a prop plane bound for Bangkok. Halfway through the flight, the aircraft dropped many hundreds of feet in an instant, while dipping and diving through a turbulent storm cloud. The dive scattered lunch boxes off open tray tables up in the air above our heads. Water and juice and beer and ham landed in the laps of seat neighbors around us. Passengers yelled out.

Here is the view from my window moments after our plane exited the storm:

We hadn’t planned on being on a plane today at all. Our oldest seems to have contracted dengue fever, however, and we bailed out of our itinerary in Cambodia for access to reliable doctors in Bangkok and a hands-on diagnosis.

W is stable and — already — we have received expert medical advice from tropical disease experts via email. These docs are friends and family. They are friends of friends. They are doctors of friends.

Imagine! A thirteen-year-old comes down with fever and some odd health symptoms in Siem Reap, Cambodia. His parents, uncertain of what to do, call a doc over Skype. They email blast a few people. That email gets passed around. Doctors respond. A general consensus develops. The parents are able make decisions about next steps.

The young man’s parents also email friends for support, for prayer. It gets passed around. People write back — in droves — with hospital suggestions, places to stay, numbers to call. They’re praying.

It’s a picture of serious Protection. Of Holy Arms pulling us in, close. Of learning how to face fear with friends in Faith … and expecting Light to reign on the other side, whatever the outcome.

On the eve of Grammy’s time with us in Thailand and Cambodia, one of our boys said he was looking forward to “Grammy’s nighttime lullabies”:

“She gives great back rubs while she sings us to sleep.”

We’re so grateful that Grammy is with us for a few days — for a variety of reasons. Here are some shots from the beginning of our journey together: