As I stepped into the transit van and sat in the passenger seat, I heard the song on the radio, Grave Robber. I turned to him and asked if he was a Christian. “Yes, ma’am.” I literally started bawling. I stated that I had just experienced a really rough day and to think that the Lord cared enough about me to send me a fellow Christian was pure joy. He responded, “Tell me about it.”
We all have a story and some chapters are more intense than others. I had experienced an intense chapter of being uncomfortable. Of having to trust in the Lord in ways I hadn’t before. And this gentleman asked me to share it.
Most of our family was in Missouri at a Homeschool National Basketball Tournament. We drove there with three of our kids. Our senior at the time was participating in this weeklong tournament. I had a women’s retreat that Friday through Sunday, yet the tournament was still happening Friday. So, my husband booked a one-way ticket airfare from Springfield, MO to Grand Rapids, MI with a connection in Chicago. He was to drive home with the three kids himself. My flight was Thursday afternoon and my ride home was on call waiting for me to text her when I connected from Chicago to Grand Rapids that evening.
Well, storms were a-brewing. Rain, thunder, lightning and of course tornadoes. My flight out of MO was delayed. A lot. I was already nervous about traveling by myself, as I have never done this. Then I realized that I was going to cut it close with my connecting flight home, making me even more anxious. I had a retreat I was directing and I wasn’t sure what was about to happen.
As I sat in the MO airport, I started singing a song in my head that I had no idea I was singing until it dawned on me. Wait, what? I started thinking about the lyrics and trying to decide why I knew that song because it wasn’t a popular song. It was from my childhood…from church. It is called a Doxology and I remember singing it at church. Doxology is a short hymn of praise. Doxa means glory. I was singing a hymn to God in the midst of my struggle, bringing Him glory. Needless to say, I sang it over and over throughout the next few days because I know that the Holy Spirit reminded me of it. I was so grateful for the reminder to focus on God in the midst of my storm.
I finally boarded the plane that headed to Chicago. It would be a miracle if I was able to catch my connecting flight. When I am in the air, I cannot receive any texts. But as soon as I land, my phone starts blowing up with messages. Texts from my husband, from my ride home and from the airline…my gate has been moved. Now the Chicago airport is ANYTHING but small. The airline app had a walking map of the airport from my exit gate to the next boarding gate…a 15 minute walk. As the plane was taxing in for us to unload, my connecting flight was already on the runway, ready for takeoff…too late…I am stuck in Chicago.
Needless to say, I wasn’t the only one who missed connecting flight. People on the plane were…let’s say…not happy. Those of us coming off the plane made our way to customer service for our airline. I felt sorry for the staff. It wasn’t their fault. They can’t control the weather. However, the people who were being offered a different connection, most being the next day, thought they could take the liberty and let the staff know how unhappy they were. My turn came and my connecting flight was the next morning. The day of the retreat. So now what?
It was 11:00 at night, Chicago time. My husband was in MO with three of our kids. My ride home was in Newaygo, MI. My other two kids were also in Newaygo, MI with jobs the next day. I was by myself. In the Chicago airport. By myself. Reminder…I have never traveled by myself. I was OUT of my comfort zone…and the enemy knew it and played me. I was terrified. I was feeling abandoned all over again. Thoughts of not good enough, failure and nobody cares swirled around in my head. I was literally paralyzed…sitting on the floor, up against the wall by customer service. People were frantic all around me. Voices over the intercom. Parents with kids who were tired. People finding a food court to grab their late dinner. People still reaming into customer service who still had no control over the weather or of available flights.
After talking to my husband, he suggested I sleep there and be ready for the 7:00 am flight. After talking to one of the kids in Newaygo, he suggested that he come to Chicago to pick me up. After talking to the other kid in Newaygo, renting a car could be an option, but driving three hours home by myself didn’t sound safe because I was exhausted. Then I spoke to my original ride home, my amazing friend, who has traveled a lot. She had been in this situation before and said I was able to find a hotel with transit to and from the airport. She talked me off the ledge and reminded me I can do this. I can get a good night sleep, in a bed, and be ready for tomorrow’s big day.
So, I went back to customer service, asked them which hotel they would recommend staying at that had transit. They suggested one. So, I was on my phone, registering for a room. I then called and asked about transit. Hurry, they said, because he should already be there.
Here’s the thing, once I leave the doors of the airport, I can’t come back in without going through security. It was a done deal, as soon as I left the doors. So, here I am, speed walking down sets of stairs, through doors, along the lanes of traffic looking for hotel transits. Reading every decal on every van, trying to find mine. I asked a few people, they just pointed.
I was cold. Missouri was warm in March. I didn’t need a coat. Chicago was not at 11:30 at night. I had no coat. All I had was my carry on.
After what seemed like an eternity, I finally found my hotel transit. The man closed the van door and looked at me. “I am full.”
What?
My face must have said it all, because he said, “Don’t worry, I will be back.”
I looked him back in the face and said in my mom but trying to be nice voice, “You better not forget me.”
“I won’t,” he replied.
What seemed like another eternity, I waited. In the dark. With no coat. In downtown Chicago. The Spirit reminded me again of the song, so I started singing it again to myself.
Then he came back! He got out of the van to open my door, “See! I didn’t forget about you.”
As I stepped into the transit van and sat in the passenger seat, I heard the song on the radio, Grave Robber. I turned to him and asked if he was a Christian. “Yes, ma’am.” I literally started bawling. I stated that I had just experienced a really rough day and to think that the Lord cared enough about me to send me a fellow Christian was pure joy. He responded, “Tell me about it.”
So, I did. I told him about this chapter in my story. How alone I felt. How scared I was. And he listened.
I was able to check into the hotel room…that had a joining room…sigh. Not sure if I put all the furniture back in the correct angles, but I did use furniture to shore up the hallway door and the joining door. If anyone was to break in, I would hear the furniture moving. Made my phone calls and texts that I was fine and set my alarm, using a few different times, as to NOT miss the ride back to the airport for another security check. Come to find out from another lady in the security line, the rental cars were all out. She stood in line for a rental but was denied when she got to the counter.
Some take aways from this experience: 1.) The Spirit reminds. I am so grateful for the songs and Scripture that I have memorized, because they help to calm me. 2.) The Lord cares about me and provided a driver who listened. 3.) Listen. Everyone has a story. And some chapters are difficult. Listen. “Tell me about it.”
I am ONE story,
~ Kristy
John 14:26 NLT (New Living Translation)
26 But when the Father sends the Advocate as my representative—that is, the Holy Spirit—he will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I have told you.
Deuteronomy 1:31 NLT (New Living Translation)
31 And you saw how the LORD your God cared for you all along the way as you traveled through the wilderness, just as a father cares for his child.
Doxology
I love you Lord, and I lift my voice,
To worship You, O my soul, rejoice.
Take joy my King, in what You hear.
May it be a sweet, sweet sound, in Your ear.