A blizzard three days ago created an awful 17-hour travel odyssey that ended with me in a hotel room in Denver, only about halfway home to Moorhead from Galveston, Texas.
Sweaty, stinky, with no clothes or tooth brush or my ever-important CPAP, the worst part was that my luggage actually ended up at home in Fargo, where I am homing to reach tomorrow evening, three days after I started for home. ... Yes, Monday evening, three and a half days later. ... That is not a typo.
And while tonight I am not where I want to be, and I miss my family very much, I know it's where I am supposed to be.
Had we had church today (We don't ... another casualty of the blizzard) I was going to preach on the where Jesus "stays," in a figurative sense. ... In the gospel reading for today, two disciples ask Jesus where he is staying. He answers, "Come and see." ... That, to me, is an invitation to open our eyes and see the places in the moment that Jesus is "staying" ... or dwelling ... or breaking in ... or showing up.
Well, anyway, that was what I was going to preach about today at church. ... But Jesus decided yesterday for me, that it wasn't about preaching, it was about doing. And yesterday he showed me that he was staying right here in Denver.
So, after I learned that my connecting flight to Fargo on Saturday was cancelled, I headed to United Airline's Customer Service to figure out my options. (And by the way, United, those people don't get paid enough. ... Just sayin'. Hook them up!)
After an hour in line, I learned that I was on standby for the last and only flight headed back to Fargo that day. But the chances were slim at best.
That was only about 8 hours into the odyssey. So I was bummed, but not heartbroken. There was still a chance!
But just as I came out of the line, I saw a woman, sitting alone, in a bank of chairs just outside of the Customer Service center, and she was broken. I mean you could tell she was crushed, and not the kind of trivial, I've-been-delayed crushed. Truly broken.
So I stopped over to ask if she was OK. ... After a few moments she told me that she had missed her plane going to Oregon by 10 minutes earlier this Saturday morning. Her plane coming in from Madison, Wis., was late into Denver by 10 minutes, and she missed her plane.
And thus she missed her brother's funeral that was scheduled for Saturday.
The funeral was for the second of her only two siblings, and her other brother was murdered years ago. So the trauma of missing her brother's funeral was multiplied.
I ended up sitting with her, and I reached into my bag and brought out a small, wooden "comfort cross" that I carry with me for just such cases. (Nod to my friend Ross Aigner who makes theses crosses for me!) I asked her if she would like it. She said yes, and she gripped it for all she was worth.
I spent the next while with her until the airline was able to get her on another flight. And while I know we'll never see each other again, I know that today I saw where Jesus was staying on Saturday. And it was right here in Denver. ... And I am perfectly OK that it will be Monday evening before I get home. 🙏❤️
Comentarios