Wednesday, February 15, 2012

God is in Control

I just read (and shared) a post of a supposed conversation between someone and God about their "very bad day". Several inconsequential things had happened, and the Lord showed him that the inconveniences were for his own protection. I thought a about our trip yesterday.

In the first place, I had awakened far too early, but my husband insisted we get on the road by 6:00 a.m. for a two-hour drive to Tulsa where we would leave on an 11:45flight to Houston. Well, we actually left at 5:30, and the fog was horrendous. We saw at least three pick-up trucks that went off the road, one upside down, and several ambulances and a firetruck. Maybe the Lord spared us from any more that could have happened had our time frame been different.

Then, arriving in Tulsa, I could not get the GPS to accept my entry for directions to the airport. We hardly knew where we were in the dense fog, but a man in a service station in the very seamy neighborhood where we 'd pulled off told us we would find it if we turned right at the next corner.

Then there were delays in security when my husband had to be patted down repeatedly from the alarm going off because he hadn't removed his belt. Finally we got to our gate, and there was nothing to do but wait. I could see the flight before ours was late, but the attendant assured us our plane was already there. We looked out to see a rather dinky express plane. When she said we could board, comparatively few people got in line. Probably because it's a small plane, I grumbled.

I had dressed warmly, but it was freezing in the plane, so I borrowed the coat my husband carried to put over my legs. Then when we got aloft, the cabin became extremely warm in the tiny two-seater space we occupied. Soon the stewardess brought something to drink, but no peanuts or snacks. My ears had plugged up until I was completely deaf, and I had looked forward to having something to eat.

At the end of the flight, we stood uncertainly with our coats and carry-ons, wondering how far it was to "Baggage" in the Houston airport. As if waiting on us, an empty luggage cart with a driver in a shuttle loomed in front of us. "Could you take us to Baggage? we asked him. He looked pensive a moment, then said, "Sure."
No doubt he saved us endless walking, and he accepted the modest tip.

Our son, Jamie, thought we would be at terminal "C", although we were at terminal "B". "We will have to ride on a train," he explained when he met us, because he had parked near the other entry. Oh, no! A train! I thought, picturing the fast-moving trains in the Atlanta airport where you could hardly hang on. But it was a small, private car that provided comfy sofas and a quick delivery, but not at sound-barrier-breaking speed.

We would baby-sit so our son and his wife could go on a Valentine date, so my husband and I shared a spaghetti supper with our granddaughters, the most charming dinner companions I can think of. I was reminded of "The Lady and the Tramp" Disney movie with its romantic moments over a plate of spaghetti, so I guess our menu was approriate for Valentine's Day.

Looking back, I have to acknowledge the Lord's hand over our whole day. Perhaps by stopping for directions, we avoided an accident that could have happened in the fog.
I should be thankful for the diligence of the security personnel in preventing hijackers.

During our seemingly boring wait to take off, I wondered about a large group of wholesome-looking young people who came tramping in together. I knew there was something different about them, as they seemed to give off an aura of positive, purposeful and up beat attitudes as I saw them interact with each other. Then I noticed insignias on a jacket here, or a cap there, of the Christian college, ORU, in Tulsa.

While we were waiting the interminable several hours at the Houston airport for our flight home, we had a lovely conversation with a soft-spoken, denim-skirted, no-makeup young lady who was a singer in a gospel band. Seated on the floor across from where we sat in airport chairs was a group of fit and handsome young men in camo fatigues, military guys waitng for their flight. When our flight was called, I passed by them and told them how proud we were of them. They extended their hands to me in appreciation. "God bless you," I said as I clasped each hand. And God bless us everyone, I thought, and He has.

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