In the past week, I’ve been on several trips which have taken me to Singapore, Taipei, Bangkok, Mumbai (Bombay), Dubai, and back again. For someone who’s dream it has been to fly since they were three years old, I must say that this has to rank right up there near the top of weeks in my life.

I have to add that I am currently caught up in the moment of things. I’ve passed a lot of stressful training and still have much more stressful training ahead of me. Because of all the stress and preparation, when I have some down time and have the opportunity to reflect back on what has just occurred — I just flew a 747 from Dubai back to Hong Kong via Mumbai, I get pretty giddy. But, as neat as that is to me, and as much as I try and savor the moments, I also put them into perspective.

For example, as great as that week was, it pales in comparison to the weeks of my marriage and honeymoon, or the week I proposed, or some of the family times together around the holidays, or during times when I’ve been completely dependent upon my Savior and He has come through for me. My relationship with Jesus, my family, my wife, and so forth are so much more of a true picture of who I really am. I am not Toby the Airline Pilot. I am Toby, a child of God, Toby, a husband to Laura, Toby, a son of Jerry and Suzann.

Too often, people, usually men, find so much of their identity in their job. So many of us guys relate to who we are as being what we do. If who I am is an airline pilot, then who am I when I lose my job? If I am a husband, then who am I when my spouse divorces me? If I’m a parent, then who am I when my kids are grown up and gone? There is only one identity that is eternal. There is only one true identity that I can have. Who am I really? I am a child of God.

Some of my pilot friends get their entire self image from who they are at work. Sitting at the bar, trying to pick up girls, the “I’m a pilot” line usually comes out with a certain hope that it will be impressive. Some of them ignore their families and are gone all the time, because they are always driven to advance their career as quickly and as far up the ladder as possible. Some spend all their time in training because they are leap frogging from one plane to the next one and always wanting to fly the bigger, shiny, new airplane, even if it means a terrible lifestyle adjustment. I know that this probably happens in a lot of careers, not just aviation.

The line that I try to share with people is that, “A pilot is what I do, it’s not who I am.” Some of my blog posts can get a little heavy on the piloting stuff and sometimes I need a healthy reminder that life is ultimately about relationships. It’s not about flying a 747 or how much money is made or how big the house is or what career path is chosen. What is the meaning of life? This classic philosophical question seems like such a toughie, but it’s only because we’ve made it tough. The answer is really simple. The meaning of life is to love and praise God, to bring Him glory, and to foster relationships with people.

No one gets to the end of their life, as they lay on their death bed, and wishes that they had worked a little more overtime. No one at that point wishes that they had made just a little more money, took fewer vacations, nurtured a grudge toward someone special for years, or made that great promotion thirty years ago. No, at that point, it’s all about the people surrounding the bedside. It’s all about people and the relationships made with our short time here on Earth. Few, I think, would argue that it would be better to die wealthy and alone than poor and surrounded by the lives that they have impacted over the years. Or to remove finances, pompous and conceited, yet alone, versus humble but surrounded by many.

I’m reminded of the ending to the movie, “Mr. Holland’s Opus.” Mr. Holland always nurtured a grand dream to be a great composer and concert director. He wanted to write music and be famous. He couldn’t make it big, so he took a job, in obscurity, as a high school music teacher. 30 years later, he was still a music teacher, not famous, and had no major music written. He felt his life was a failure. Until the final scene, were, as he is retiring, he walks into the auditorium where it is full of people, his former students over the years. They have gathered to thank him for the impact he had on their lives. Mr. Holland touched so many lives and made a positive impression on so many people, that he finally realized that relationships are what life is all about. It may be nice to have a major musical score written, be wealthy and famous. But, he wouldn’t have traded that for all those kids over the years.

What a great ending to a great story! And what a great reminder to me that as I fly, it’s great fun, but it is not why I’m here on this Earth. Whether someone is an investment banker worth billions or the guy who picks up metal scraps out of our trash can every Monday for money, it’s all the same to God. He will be just as impressed with the man who has nothing as the man who has everything, so long as they understand the true meaning of life and that their identity is in Christ. Why? Because we weak humans look at the outside, but God looks at the heart.

So, what is your identity? Who are you, really? What are you doing to foster relationships? I know that my answer is: not enough . . .

Dr. David Dykes has a sermon on this very theme.