I lift up my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip – he who watches over you will not slumber…the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore. Psalm 121:1-3, 8
Plotting my strategy to arrive at the airport on a cross-country trip at Christmas, I quickly realize these are the proverbial best-laid plans. Starting my car at 8:00am, I sagely acknowledge that I will never make it to the station to catch the 8:02 train to the airport. But if traffic isn’t its usual, horrible self on the freeway, I might just make the 8:17 train.
As I drag my over-stuffed luggage, filled to the gills with Christmas gifts, up the escalator to the train platform, I thank God for the tiny miracle that I am going to make the 8:17 with one minute to spare.
Thankful again for an uncrowded train, I settle in against the wall with a death grip on my luggage in case it decides to spring for freedom and roll down the aisle. About 30 minutes into the ride, we come to a stop. I try not to go to worse-case scenarios like missing my plane or being told it is too late to check a bag. The train operator informs us that another train in front of ours is having difficulties. We will have to wait until they move. Our train, loaded now with many passengers, is one mile from the next station, parked under the bay, over a hundred feet underwater. I try not to let my claustrophobic mind latch onto that thought.
After many starts and stops, and, I must admit, many prayers on my part, the train slowly pulls into the station. That’s when I realize that had I caught the earlier 8:02 train, I would have had to disembark at that station with my hefty bag and catch the next crowded train, the one I am riding now. I thank God for small mercies that didn’t seem positive initially.
You’d think that since this train’s final destination is the airport and we’ve already been delayed for half an hour, that the driver and owner of the chipper voice on the intercom would make post-haste for the airport. Au contraire. Starting to panic about missing my flight, my silent prayers morph into pleadings. I scream inside my head for God to make this train go faster (and of course, safely) to our destination, even imagining mighty angels flying alongside of us, guiding the way. Prayer usually has a way of calming me. Eventually it does but only when I realize two things: no one else on the train seems to be the least bit concerned that we are woefully behind schedule and more importantly, God is still in control.
God had already orchestrated the details of my morning so that I was on the 8:17 instead of the broken-down 8:02, right? An hour later, He is still in control.
After what seems like an eternity, the train arrives at the airport. But seeing the hoards at the check-in counter cause my heart to sink and my mind to pray again. Fervently.
Getting in a long line to check my bag, I glance at my watch. I have five minutes to get my bag checked before it is too late. Again, everyone else in line seems to be taking it all in jolly Christmas stride. Why couldn’t I? Oh, yes, that’s right. My flight is leaving in 45 minutes and I still have to check my bag, go through Security, and get to the gate. And did I mention the gate in question is at the end of a very long concourse?
By now, I am feeling incredibly desperate to check in for my flight. The man behind me in line strikes up a conversation. When he realizes my flight leaves soon, he asks all the passengers in front of us if I could break in line. I tell him he is my angel for helping me. I check in, thanking God for another minor miracle and believing that God worked through this kind man in that moment.
Checking my bag and feeling ever so thankful to make it in time, I head to Security. Thankful again that the line moves relatively quickly, I exit Security. I now have five minutes before boarding starts. Having flown this flight multiple times before, I know how long the hike is to the gate. The jacket and scarf come off as I alternate walking and sprinting, weaving in and out between passengers and airport personnel like I am driving on the freeway.
Finally arriving at the gate which feels like a life-long journey rather than the three hours it really is, I am just so grateful to be here. And to be here before take-off. Actually, I am here before boarding starts. Apparently, I am not the only late arrival. The flight crew is still in route to the airport.
When I finally sink into my seat on the plane, I am relieved to ultimately be on board and so thankful that I made it. After all the obstacles, I can now relax.
As I reflect on this more-eventful-than-I-would-like trip to the airport, I am truly thankful. But at the time, I felt frustrated that I couldn’t control the train, not its stops nor its speed. I couldn’t control the mechanically-impaired train in front of us any more than I could control whether the sun rose that morning or not. Which it did, by the way, and I did rejoice in the beautiful sunshine and glorious day. But that was before trains with difficulties blocked my path. It really was a glorious day, for I realized that I don’t need to worry. I don’t need to fret when obstacles leap in front of me, spoiling my careful plans. For I have a Father in heaven, who watches over me, who never sleeps on the job, who is always in control. Relinquishing my perceived control to the One who created the world and my tiny corner of it is a practice I obviously need to exercise more frequently. The choice is mine: to trust my eyes for what I see in the physical realm or to trust my spiritual Father who created the physical realm. He is in control. Now and always. I am not.
Heavenly Father, I thank You and praise You that You are always in control regardless of the circumstances, whether everyday occurrences or life-changing events. You are the Lord Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. You never slumber or sleep as You watch over me on my journey in life. Open my eyes to the tiny mercies and miracles You provide each day. Help me to trust You more. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
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Text and photograph copyright © 2018 by Dawn Dailey. All rights reserved. Photo of mountains in the Douro Valley region of Portugal.
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™
Plotting my strategy to arrive at the airport on a cross-country trip at Christmas, I quickly realize these are the proverbial best-laid plans. Starting my car at 8:00am, I sagely acknowledge that I will never make it to the station to catch the 8:02 train to the airport. But if traffic isn’t its usual, horrible self on the freeway, I might just make the 8:17 train.
As I drag my over-stuffed luggage, filled to the gills with Christmas gifts, up the escalator to the train platform, I thank God for the tiny miracle that I am going to make the 8:17 with one minute to spare.
Thankful again for an uncrowded train, I settle in against the wall with a death grip on my luggage in case it decides to spring for freedom and roll down the aisle. About 30 minutes into the ride, we come to a stop. I try not to go to worse-case scenarios like missing my plane or being told it is too late to check a bag. The train operator informs us that another train in front of ours is having difficulties. We will have to wait until they move. Our train, loaded now with many passengers, is one mile from the next station, parked under the bay, over a hundred feet underwater. I try not to let my claustrophobic mind latch onto that thought.
After many starts and stops, and, I must admit, many prayers on my part, the train slowly pulls into the station. That’s when I realize that had I caught the earlier 8:02 train, I would have had to disembark at that station with my hefty bag and catch the next crowded train, the one I am riding now. I thank God for small mercies that didn’t seem positive initially.
You’d think that since this train’s final destination is the airport and we’ve already been delayed for half an hour, that the driver and owner of the chipper voice on the intercom would make post-haste for the airport. Au contraire. Starting to panic about missing my flight, my silent prayers morph into pleadings. I scream inside my head for God to make this train go faster (and of course, safely) to our destination, even imagining mighty angels flying alongside of us, guiding the way. Prayer usually has a way of calming me. Eventually it does but only when I realize two things: no one else on the train seems to be the least bit concerned that we are woefully behind schedule and more importantly, God is still in control.
God had already orchestrated the details of my morning so that I was on the 8:17 instead of the broken-down 8:02, right? An hour later, He is still in control.
After what seems like an eternity, the train arrives at the airport. But seeing the hoards at the check-in counter cause my heart to sink and my mind to pray again. Fervently.
Getting in a long line to check my bag, I glance at my watch. I have five minutes to get my bag checked before it is too late. Again, everyone else in line seems to be taking it all in jolly Christmas stride. Why couldn’t I? Oh, yes, that’s right. My flight is leaving in 45 minutes and I still have to check my bag, go through Security, and get to the gate. And did I mention the gate in question is at the end of a very long concourse?
By now, I am feeling incredibly desperate to check in for my flight. The man behind me in line strikes up a conversation. When he realizes my flight leaves soon, he asks all the passengers in front of us if I could break in line. I tell him he is my angel for helping me. I check in, thanking God for another minor miracle and believing that God worked through this kind man in that moment.
Checking my bag and feeling ever so thankful to make it in time, I head to Security. Thankful again that the line moves relatively quickly, I exit Security. I now have five minutes before boarding starts. Having flown this flight multiple times before, I know how long the hike is to the gate. The jacket and scarf come off as I alternate walking and sprinting, weaving in and out between passengers and airport personnel like I am driving on the freeway.
Finally arriving at the gate which feels like a life-long journey rather than the three hours it really is, I am just so grateful to be here. And to be here before take-off. Actually, I am here before boarding starts. Apparently, I am not the only late arrival. The flight crew is still in route to the airport.
When I finally sink into my seat on the plane, I am relieved to ultimately be on board and so thankful that I made it. After all the obstacles, I can now relax.
As I reflect on this more-eventful-than-I-would-like trip to the airport, I am truly thankful. But at the time, I felt frustrated that I couldn’t control the train, not its stops nor its speed. I couldn’t control the mechanically-impaired train in front of us any more than I could control whether the sun rose that morning or not. Which it did, by the way, and I did rejoice in the beautiful sunshine and glorious day. But that was before trains with difficulties blocked my path. It really was a glorious day, for I realized that I don’t need to worry. I don’t need to fret when obstacles leap in front of me, spoiling my careful plans. For I have a Father in heaven, who watches over me, who never sleeps on the job, who is always in control. Relinquishing my perceived control to the One who created the world and my tiny corner of it is a practice I obviously need to exercise more frequently. The choice is mine: to trust my eyes for what I see in the physical realm or to trust my spiritual Father who created the physical realm. He is in control. Now and always. I am not.
Heavenly Father, I thank You and praise You that You are always in control regardless of the circumstances, whether everyday occurrences or life-changing events. You are the Lord Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. You never slumber or sleep as You watch over me on my journey in life. Open my eyes to the tiny mercies and miracles You provide each day. Help me to trust You more. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
Want to subscribe to future posts? Click here.
Text and photograph copyright © 2018 by Dawn Dailey. All rights reserved. Photo of mountains in the Douro Valley region of Portugal.
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™
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