The crucial skill in gliding is finding rising air. You cannot see it, but you can see what it does. I was taught to look for cumulus clouds because they often mark where warm air is rising, and I learned to fly toward them.
But even more important than using visual cues to find rising air is to learn to feel it. While flying along, I would begin to feel that I was being lifted by an unseen force. This rising air is called “lift.” One wing would tip upward, and I would turn toward it, into the lift.
I was taught how to stay in lift, circling upward to gain altitude, and to often join other pilots who had found lift, climbing with them in the same invisible column of rising air.
To be flying is fantastic, but climbing in lift and soaring with no engine is almost beyond description. For me it was beautiful—with only the whistle of the wind, the occasional creak from the glider, and the magnificent sensation of being drawn upward!
Just as there is rising air, there is also sinking air, called “sink.” It likewise cannot be seen, but it can be felt, and I quickly learned to avoid it. Gliding into sink can feel like falling, sometimes quickly. It shortens the distance you might fly and may threaten a safe landing. When I encountered sink, I learned to turn away decisively...
In gliding, if you are not actively climbing in lift, you are descending. This is an uncomfortable fact. A descent can be so gradual that, unless you watch your altitude, you may not notice you are sinking.
Isn’t it the same in our lives?
"Jesus Lives to Lift," General Conference, October 2026
