Defending Zion

Several years ago I was a newly minted, combat ready fighter pilot in the U.S. Air Force. Just after receiving this honor, my fighter squadron, along with many other combat squadrons, went to Nellis Air Force Base outside Las Vegas, Nevada for a massive air war exercise called Red Flag, which puts close to a hundred airplanes in the sky for a fight of incredible proportions. 

Red Flag lasts for three weeks, the missions increasingly more difficult as the war goes on, and for an hour  every afternoon or in the middle of the night, the skies over northern Nevada are filled with jets in a dueling dance of modern warfare. 

During the last week of the exercise, I took off as the newest pilot in my formation of four fighters to our side of the sky where a great air armada massed for the fight. Dozens of fighters (F-22, F-35, F-16, F-15E) as well as tankers, bombers, and airborne command and control assets from various squadrons flew racetrack patterns stacked neatly over one another waiting for the radio call that would start the fight, like a football team at the moment just before the ball is snapped. 

The weather forecast was poor, and as we circled I watched the storm building steadily over the mountain range to our south. Finally, the "fight's on!" was transmitted over the radio and we pointed our jets at the numerous enemy fighters waiting for us. I pushed my galloping steed into supersonic speeds and climbed as high as the jet would allow for the initial volley of missiles. I was intent on taking the first shot of the fight and with glee targeted, shot, and turned... right into a massive, building, cumulonimbus tower which ascended twice my height. I radioed my flight lead who turned us away from the storm. I had been so intent on the fight that I hadn't noticed how quickly the storm had developed. 

An emergency broadcast was made on the radio to "knock it off" and return immediately to base because of the weather. My formation rejoined, flying only a few feet from each other, as we tried to navigate around the worst parts of the suddenly dangerous and massive storm. We went in and out of clouds, arcs of lightning over and around us, jumping from cloud to cloud. Several fighters were hit by hail. One of the jets took a piece of hail into a pod with a radioactive element, creating a ground emergency where crews in hazmat suits evacuated the area and quarantined the jet.

Back on the ground, as I sat in my fighter waiting for the crew chief to signal engine shut down, I contemplated on what I had seen. The power and fury of the storm. The varying colors of the clouds, some so dark as to turn the summer Nevada sky from day to night. The blinding flashes of lightning. The suddenness and speed of the clouds that stretched across the horizon and built to altitudes no modern fighter jets can reach. 

Further contemplation made me realize that the most technological and deadly weapons ever built by humans, capable of delivering conventional destruction or nuclear holocaust, equipping the most successful and feared military in the history of man, failed the mission that day, not a single objective achieved. Not only failed, but we were grounded for several days as expensive repairs were made.

God impressed on me that day, and showed me that not only can He defend Zion, it is easy for Him to do so.