by Brad Layland, Chief Executive Officer & Senior Consultant
Some weeks pass quietly. Others deliver moments that grab you by the collar and refuse to let go. A few weeks ago, I lived through two of those moments—one personal, one professional. At first glance, they couldn’t be more different. But underneath, they were about the exact same thing:
Two people responding to a “fire on the wing.”
Moment #1: Texts from a Plane
It was Thursday night. I was in my living room giving a talk to 55 leaders who were in town attending The FOCUS Group Institute. I glanced at my watch, and three texts from my daughter lit up the screen. She was on a plane flying home from Dallas for a school break.
Text one:
“There’s a fire on the wing of the plane.”
Text two:
“I love you guys.”
Text three:
“I’m going to heaven.”
And suddenly, everything in me stopped.
I’m a pilot. I know how engines work. I know the odds. But at that moment, none of that mattered. My daughter was midair, and all I had was a few words and a watch buzzing on my wrist.
Somehow, I finished the talk I was giving. Somehow, the pilot did exactly what needed to be done: he shut down the engine, cut the fuel, and safely landed the plane back in Dallas.
Four hours later, my daughter walked through security at the Jacksonville airport, and I wept for joy to see and hug her.
The stretch of time between seeing her texts and knowing she was safe was real and terrifying. For a suspended-in-time moment, the future was totally unknown. All I could do was trust and hope that the pilot would do his job.
Moment #2: A Gift That Will Outlive Us All
Just days before that, I got to stand with one of our clients, Biola University, as they announced the largest financial gift in their 117-year history—over $40 million!—to build a center for Christian tech innovation and prepare students for the future of faith and technology. (Read the story.)
I can tell you: this wasn’t just a fundraising milestone. This was a leap of faith for the donor who made the gift.
This donor didn’t just give money. They saw the fire on the wing—the cultural, ethical, and spiritual challenges ahead for the next generation—and instead of pulling back, they leaned in.
They said, Let’s build something bold.
Let’s prepare students who love Jesus and know how to lead in Silicon Valley, in startups, in AI labs, in the world that’s coming.
Let’s not play defense. Let’s pioneer.
And this sacrificial gift—one that will fund scholarships, equipment, and state-of-the-art engineering garages at Biola University—will alter the future and transform countless lives.
But even as I think about both of these stories—the pilot’s steady hands and a donor’s courageous generosity—I’m reminded that every rescue, every act of faith, every bold decision we celebrate is really just a shadow of the greater rescue we’ve already received.
As humans we have all had a “fire on the wing.” Born into sin and unable to save ourselves, we were all headed toward disaster, helpless to fix our own brokenness.
Recognizing our need, Jesus did what only He could do. He stepped in. He cut off the source of death itself. He absorbed the fire so that we could land safely in His grace.
That’s the rescue that changes everything.
Without Him, all our best efforts—our leadership, our giving, our courage—would still end in smoke. But with Him, even the scariest moment becomes a story of redemption, and every gift becomes an echo of His generosity.
When I think back to that Thursday night, or to Biola’s incredible announcement, I see them both for what they are: reminders that Jesus is still in the business of saving people and writing stories that only He could author.
So no matter how dire a situation may seem, when you get that text or see the writing on the wall, remember: He is our peace, our purpose, and our pilot even when life feels like it’s on fire.
We’ve been privileged to help many organizations be more effective in their fundraising by learning and implementing relational fundraising principles in their work with donors. Want to talk?