Spotting and Showing

A Travel Challenge: Updated Below
It’s not quite 6 a.m. in California. I’m sitting in John Wayne Airport, enjoying free wifi, coffee and a cinnamon chip scone before I board my flight to Phoenix, then on to Baltimore.

As my husband Rich drove me to the airport in the early-morning darkness, I mentally set a myself a challenge:

Today, as I navigate two airports, hotel check-in, and making connections with my fellow students and the instructors of the weekend course I’m traveling to attend, I want to move beyond seeking God in my day.

I want to show Him to people whose paths cross mine.

Air travel is stressful. Will God bless me today with the oppportunity to show His love and care to another? I’m focused on being conscious of those chances, on hearing Him when He guides me today.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

105 Your word is a lamp to guide my feet
and a light for my path.
106 I’ve promised it once, and I’ll promise it again:
I will obey Your righteous regulations. Psalm 119:105-106 (NLT)

Edited to add:
I write from 35,000 feet or so above the earth somewhere between Phoenix to Baltimore, having contemplated what an interesting lesson in pridefulness God is teaching me today.
The departure from my home airport was uneventful. I noted no particular opportunities to show the Lord’s love for anyone in the terminal or on the plane. One distressed baby was aboard, but seated too far from me for me to attempt to distract the infant or sympathize with his parents.

Landing in Phoenix I had little time to make my connection. The flight status display indicated that my flight was already boarding.

Sky Harbor Airport is a u-shaped building. I had arrived via a gate at one tip of the U—maybe B24? And my next flight was departing from A30, the gate at the opposite tip of the U.

The signs in the airport weren’t clear to me, so at the last moment I changed course away from the moving walkway I’d been about to step onto so I could better study the signs—and walked directly in the path of a cart being driven by airport staff.

They missed me.

Another airport employee said, “Where are you headed?” “A30,” I replied. “Follow me,” he said, and we hopped on to the moving walkway.

I had a distinct sensation of having been taken into protective custody.

This gentleman remained with me until we came upon a section of the moving walkway, across the base of the U, that was not moving. As we strode along, I overtook an elderly woman who was walking with difficulty.

As I knew he would, my chaperone dropped back to help her. Just as I was about to flag down other employees pushing an empty wheelchair in his direction, I heard him call out to them.

I looked over my shoulder. “You OK?” he asked? “I got it.” I pointed to indicate that I knew to turn right at the end of the corridor and then proceed to the end of that corridor. He nodded, and I left him with the passenger whose need was greater than my cluelessness.

The airline only paged me once before I made it to the gate. I phoned Rich to let him know I’d landed, and was about to take off again, and then settled in for my flight.

I cracked open my friend Kathi Macias’ novel More than Conquerors and lost myself in the engaging plot. On page 130 I read these words:

Life was so easy and good when he kept it in perspective. He knew God’s plans for him were good—whatever they were—so all he had to do was love God with all his heart and be obedient to Him today, knowing that God would then escort him right into the future He had planned for him before the foundation of the world.

“Silly” rang in my head. But I wasn’t feeling foolish about my dash through the airport. I recognized my pridefulness in expecting that if God chose to use me in my travels today, I would know. I would know today.

Better, at least for this Godspotter, to be seeking Him, and listening, than to imagine that it is my place to specify the way I am willing to serve Him today.