Peace or Panic?
“No, this can’t be happening.” My body and brain instantly reacted. Denial filled my mind and heart. After months of waiting, the countdown to see my daughter and grandson had dropped down to mere hours, only to self-destruct.
I arrived at the airport to a joyful surprise – a former co-worker was on the first leg of my journey with me – only to be slammed with the information that our flight had been canceled. Adrenaline induced fighting mode rose up in me even as I took in the serenity on Mary’s face. How could she be so calm? We both knew no more flights for our San Francisco layover would leave until the next day. Only two flights per day left our tiny airport. One went north, the other was our southbound flight.
Both of us planned our flights for the same reason, to see our kids and grandkids. We both faced the same spring break time restrictions of our teaching profession. Yet her reaction was totally opposite of mine. “I figure if I can’t get on this flight, God must have a better idea.”
Never have I met anyone who’s very essence exuded calm like Mary. Our jobs provided plenty of fiery opportunities to test that calm. Add to that three children, lots of grandchildren, and a policeman husband that faced daily danger. Yet in every situation I witnessed, she remained unflappable.
I waited behind Mary and her husband, listening as they rescheduled her flight. Because most people on our flight became aware of the cancellation much earlier, and the fact it was spring break, the next two days’ flights were full, so it took a long time to figure out an alternate flight for her final destination.
My turn. Still unable to concede I wouldn’t see my family today, I grasped at straws. “I can see a plane on the tarmac.”
“That’s the Portland flight.”
“Can I get on the Portland flight? I can surely get a plane to Pasadena from there.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. The doors just closed.”
That didn’t help my attitude.
Eventually, the clerk rescheduled me on a flight the next day out of an airport two hours away and extended my return flight by a day. My attitude got better by evening and my trip turned out lovely.
But, Mary’s response haunted me during my whole visit. In fact, for the next several years every time a frustration arose when my plans didn’t work out, her serene face popped into my head. Trust had been Mary’s first reaction. My trust kicked in only after I got another flight scheduled.
I began to wonder if God’s “better plan” for Mary that day centered around my need for an object lesson on trust. “Lord, thank You for using Mary to open my eyes to what trust in action looks like. I’m sorry she had to sacrifice because of my spiritual immaturity. I want my first reaction to frustration to be trust. Calm my body and mind to accept Your different plan and know You will provide for me.”
The Holy Spirit began working in me to cause trust to become my first reaction, not my second, or third, or tenth. I even emailed Mary to share with her how God had impacted my life because of her serene reaction that day, and to apologize for how it affected her.
A few months ago I had the privilege of spending some time on a South Carolina beach. My daughter (the same one that used to live in Pasadena) invited me to stay a few days at her house on my multi-day drive back home. At one critical junction I took an exit that, although slightly different than my GPS said, should have put me on the right freeway and gotten me there sooner.
Instead of merely rerouting the directions on my phone, the GPS insisted I get back on the original road and follow its directions. Being unfamiliar with the area, I decided to follow the GPS and return to the route. I trusted each turn, even though it looked like a long cut. Sure enough, I was right. It detoured me onto narrow country mountain roads behind a large RV, adding a couple hours onto my trip. My reaction? To thank God for a great adventure in the beautiful countryside.
God does good work.
