It’s crazy how often I find myself here. Actually, it’s crazy how often I have to find myself coming back here. Because when I’m here, I’m reminded that it’s actually the best place to be. That I can’t do it on my own and that I should never even want to try. Taking matters into my own hands has never been successful, and you would think by now I would have learned that it never will be. My timing sucks, my plans always fail, and my ways only bring destruction. This may sound like the bottom of a pit of despair, but it’s actually beyond relieving.
Because His timing is perfect, nothing can thwart His plans, and His ways are the only source of abundant life.
Right now, I’m about half-way through a six hour flight that was delayed for at least forty-five minutes because of me. I had an airport experience today that was unlike any other. I’ve always been ‘good’ at airports and taken pride in that. I try to refrain from travelling with liquids or laptops or anything in my bag that would take extra time to take in and out. I wear metal-free outfits with easily removable shoes, and I’m always ready and organized way sooner than necessary when getting off the plane. I had this idea that because I tried to cause everyone as little hassle as possible, the ‘travel gods’ would do the same for me. And it’s worked. I never once beeped going through security, I never got randomly selected, and my name never got called over the intercom with any issues, until today. I beeped three times going through security AND got randomly selected. I landed in my layover airport at the same time I was supposed to be boarding my next flight. (Which is obviously already not a great start to a layover.) Then I had to sit and wait for them to find my bag, my passport wouldn’t scan, and I booked it on to my plane after being paged on the intercom for a solid hour. (I later found out that to top it all off my bag never even made it on the plane at all!)
I sat in my seat for the first couple minutes just completely dumb-founded at the days events. These things never happen to me. This is just not who I am.
But I think that’s what the Lord was trying to redefine for me. I’m not who I was, and I should never want to be. This life with Jesus should always be about not being who I was. My hopes and prayers should constantly be for change, and growth, and being made new. It’s an honor to not be who I was because He promises to make me like Him. God is doing a new thing. It’s a new season, and if being an airline nightmare is a part of what that new season has to look like, then let me walk into it with my eyes fixed on Jesus and my arms wide open.
words by Kirsten Larson and photo by Clara Espe