This past Wednesday I began my journey back to Spokane, WA where I am studying biblical exposition (fancy words for preaching). I had taken the fall semester off and was ready to be back and get back into the swing of things.
Tuesday night wrapped up nicely, but it wrapped up late. Around 3:30 on Wednesday morning I went to sleep, only to wake up at 6:00. I finished packing, got ready for the day, and left with my parents for the Traverse City airport.
When we got there, I said my goodbyes and went through security. While waiting to get through, I prayed to God that I would see His sovereignty through it all, no matter what happened. I don’t know why I specifically prayed that, but that is exactly what happened.
I got on the plane in Traverse City and patiently waited to begin the first leg of the journey. As we flew, I met a nice Christian woman who I talked to for a good portion of the trip to Chicago’s O’Hare airport. We landed in Chicago on time and while we were waiting to get off the plane, Tracy, the lady next to me, asked me if I had a good amount of time before my next flight left. I told her I did, but, unfortunately, I was wrong. I apparently only had about twenty minutes until my flight to Denver left and had to walk all the way through O’Hare to get to the gate. As I was hurrying my way through the giant airport, I knew my hope to catch the flight was lost, but I got to the gate nevertheless. At the gate, I was told to walk over to the customer service desk and get a new flight, a process I would get too used to doing.
They moved me to a flight to San Francisco then to Spokane. The layover in San Francisco was two hours, which would give me plenty of time to make my flight to Spokane. If only…
I boarded the plane, eager to get to Spokane and see the friends I had missed for eight months. I had been scheduled to get in around 12:30pm, but because of the missed flight, I was going to get in at 5pm.
And then we sat. Apparently some part of the fuel system wasn’t working properly and we sat at the gate for an hour, waiting for our flight to begin. Finally, they deemed the plane unusable and had prepared another plane for our flight.
We all got off the plane and moved to another gate in another concourse to finally get moving. After a long line, I got back on the plane, with hope of making my flight to Spokane quickly dimming.
That flight just felt like it would never end. But, finally, it did. I took a shuttle to the other side of the airport and knew that I had missed my flight. I got to the gate and sure enough, I missed it. I got a new route to Portland then to Spokane and walked my way to the other side of the airport to wait.
At this point, I was exhausted and ready to be done. I hadn’t eaten or slept at all and was running on just three or so hours of sleep.
To save you some time I will condense the following process. I boarded, flew in to Portland, waited for three hours, boarded my plane to Spokane, fell asleep on the plane, woke up to see my city in the window and wanted to shout for joy.
After more airports than I wanted to see, ten more hours than I wanted to spend in said airports, I had made it.
During all this, one of the wheels on my suitcase broke in Chicago and my belt broke in San Francisco. It seemed everything was going wrong. Yet, while everything was going wrong, one thing was right. God and His control, love, and sovereignty never left me. I nearly lost my sanity, my patience, and my hope, but by the grace of God and the truth of His sovereignty, I didn’t actually lose them. I made it safely and differently than I wanted, but God had control the whole time.