Dateline: 7:30 A.M. London time. That’s 1:30 A.M. CST for those of you keeping score at home.
Well…we made it! Halfway, at least.
All thanks to the power of prayer.
Oh, let’s see…where should I start?
Perhaps I should start at check-in, where we arrived with all our baggage and tickets in hand, ready to embark on this adventure. Our coordinator, Cindy, had called ahead and been assured we would each be able to bring on two checked bags with no additional fees – providing our bags were within the 50-lb. limit. Because we were bringing Christmas presents to the children at the safe house, and supplies and materials to the Doud’s (missionaries on the land) and Rose and Charles (house parents at the safe house), we all had two carry on bags and two checked bags. When we approached the desk to begin check-in, we were informed that we would have to pay for our second bag…to the tune of $75 apiece. Those of us who had started check-in stopped. Our momentum came to a screeching halt as a few key members of our group began negotiations with the check-in desk, and others of our group began negotiations with the Almighty. Once again, the Almighty prevailed, and after several tense minutes we were able to finish check in with no problems.
And then there was the flight itself. Though there were no major delays in leaving DFW, and we had been assured by our captain that it would be a smooth flight all the way to London, I soon discovered that my definition of “smooth” didn’t exactly match up with the captain’s. You see, to me “smooth” means “no bumps, dips, or jarring motions.” To the pilot, smooth means, “anything that give you less of a beating than riding the Texas Giant at 6 Flags.” The cabin crew had just started serving dinner when the turbulence began. And it wasn’t long before the captain ordered the crew to stow their carts and take their seats. Seriously?! I think it was about that moment that I started praying…for more than a blessing over the food. But thanks to a Good Pilot and good piloting, we managed to sail right over the worst at 37,000 feet.
Or perhaps I could share about the Adventures with Dudley at the airport. How they whisked him off in a wheelchair to our connecting flight without his passport…or ticket. How one of us was stuck with 3 carry on bags to try to get through security. How the airport staff was less than helpful in assisting us in locating our missing team member. How he went to two different terminals because he didn’t have his ticket and couldn’t remember the flight number. And how, after a few quick prayers and some resourceful thinking, our team was reunited with time to spare.
I know mission trips are a time to grow, to see God’s hand at work and to learn more about Him and ourselves. I know mission trips are an opportunity for intense spiritual disciplines. I know mission trips are all about stepping out of our comfort zones and deepening our faith and dependence on God. I guess I just didn’t realize how quickly those lessons would begin.