You Can Run, But You Can't Hide
He was only 25-years-old when, in 1927 Charles Lindbergh went from an obscure Minnesota farm boy turned mail pilot to the most famous person in the world. After squeezing into the cockpit of the Spirit of St. Louis, which had been stripped and refitted into a flying gas can, he flew from New York to Paris – the first trans-Atlantic flight.
The sudden fame almost killed him. He was hounded by reporters and curiosity seekers, his baby was kidnapped and murdered, and Hitler duped him into becoming a subject of Nazi propaganda. Lindbergh went rapidly from America’s most famous person to America’s most hated person. He was vilified and cursed. He went from the mountain top to the pit. He couldn’t take it and ran away.
Lindbergh lived the rest of his life near Hana, the most remote spot on the island of Maui. His grave is there today, a lot beside the Palapala Ho'omau Church in Kipahulu, Maui, Hawaii.
The slab over it quotes Psalm 139:9 from the King James Version of the Hebrew Bible. On the stone, it reads:
Though I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea …
I’ve seen it frequently misquoted as “I will take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the earth.” That misquote completely obliterates the meaning.
Those familiar with the Psalms recognize the incomplete thought. The Psalm continues:
Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.
Of course, I have no idea what was in Lindbergh’s mind, or even who decided to add the epitaph. But as I stood gazing at it, it spoke to me of the fact that perhaps he felt the need to hide as far away from the public and the press as he possibly could, and yet, even there, God was with him.
No matter who you are, no matter what you’ve done, no matter what’s been done to you, or what you’ve experienced, God loves you and is with you.