Waiting on God, Part 2 - on the plane

After two hours of sitting we finally started boarding flight 984 to Birmingham. I was in the last group to get on the plane and I heard the flight attendant tell a passenger ahead of me, "We're almost at capacity so I suggest you take the first empty seat you see." I followed her suggestion and chose a middle seat on the second row to my right thinking, as I stuffed my tote in the overhead compartment, I should be able to get off the plane faster. My "neighbors" didn't seem too interested in chatting but that was okay. I knew if I had to talk about my reason for traveling I would get emotional.  I looked at my watch, 1:30, Hunter had been in surgery for three hours. Angie said they would text her updates every so often, so I called her before turning my phone off.

"Any word yet?" "They've started the procedure and they're through the scalp but haven't cut through the skull yet." How could we be talking about my grandson? My daughter echoed my thoughts almost exactly, " I can't believe my child is having brain surgery. He's the one who is supposed to be performing brain surgery one day." Silence. Then, "But they said he's doing fine." I was trying hard to control my voice, "We're on the plane and we should be taking off any minute. I'll be arriving at the airport at 3:10." "Okay, I'll get someone to pick you up." I swallowed, "I'll be praying and I should be there before he's out of surgery. I love you." "I know and I love you too."

As I turned off my phone I took a deep breath and prayed for Hunter, for the doctors and surgical staff, for Angie, Tommy and everyone else waiting with them. Then I settled in as the plane started to taxi away from the gate. I got my book out - Three Cups of Tea - and tried to focus on reading. The plane came to a stop, engines whirring, waiting for takeoff. But we didn't take off. Instead, the Captain's voice over the speaker announced that takeoff would be delayed 20-30 minutes because of weather. Up and down the plane, people were looking out at an almost cloudless blue sky and the waves of triple digit Texas heat rising from the tarmac. "There are pockets of severe thunderstorms over Mississippi and they're causing other flights to be redirected so the airways are not clear. We have to wait for a route to open up and that could take a half an hour. We will take off as soon as we get the okay. Until then we'll shut one of the engines down to reserve fuel. We apologize for the inconvenience."

"Inconvenience?" Not even close. Try "insane, gut-wrenching frustration." "Lord Jesus, what is going on here?" I looked at my watch. At this rate we wouldn't be there before 3:30 at the earliest, then it would be at least another half hour to the hospital from the airport, depending on who picked me up. "Oh God, I promised Hunter I would be there when he wakes up. I know that sounds like such a little thing, but it gives me something to cling to. Please don't take that away from me." I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes again. I leaned down and dug a tissue out of my purse. I dabbed my face and wiped my nose as the man to my right calmly looked over, smiled and shrugged, "It's always something isn't it?" I did my best to return his smile and shrug, nodding in agreement. The woman to my left seemed a little annoyed but didn't say anything.

I'm not claustrophobic but I suddenly felt like the plane was closing in around me. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, and found myself reciting the Pilgrim's prayer we learn through Via de Cristo: "Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in us the fire of your love." It's meant to be said in unison, but it was working for me. "Send forth your Spirit and we shall be created, and you shall renew the face of the earth." I could feel all the other people who were praying for Hunter and for me. "Oh God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit, instructs the hearts of the faithful," I trust you Jesus, that I am where you want me to be. "grant that by that same Holy Spirit I may be truly wise and ever rejoice in his consolations. Through Christ our Lord, Amen." Amen. Thank you Jesus for the gift of prayer, for the gift of your Holy Spirit, for the gift of your ever-sufficient grace.

I wish I could say I waited peacefully and patiently for the next twenty minutes or so until the plane took off, but I didn't. I texted Angie to let her know we were running late, not wanting to risk hearing her voice again. I still looked at my watch every few minutes and had to keep wiping tears away occasionally. I kept up my "I trust you Jesus" prayer litany until finally we were in the air. I still looked at my watch frequently, but I was able to read for a little while. Then, as we got closer I was thinking more and more of Hunter and of Angie. Knowing she couldn't reach me for an hour and a half made me anxious. For the first time I understood why some people become so addicted to electronic communication devices. In crisis they become our lifeline.

We landed in Birmingham at about 3:30. As I waited impatiently to get off the plane, they announced that anyone continuing to Nashville should stay seated until the rest of the passengers deplaned. The man to my right stretched and smiled again, not moving. He asked me, "So, where are you headed?" I started gathering my things, "Here, Birmingham, and you?" Still not moving, "Nashville. Do you have family here in Birmingham?" People were filing up from the back of the plane, already lined up to the door which was still closed. Why was he just sitting there, chatting amiably? I tried to keep my voice calm, but I could feel my composure melting, "My grandson is in surgery to remove a brain tumor right now at Children's Hospital." His expression changed as he suddenly recognized my distress, "I'm sorry to hear that, and I hope everything will be okay." I was losing it again as I said to myself as much as to him, "I just have to get there before he wakes up." As I looked at the line of people anxiously, he stood up and stepped out into the aisle, creating a space. I mumbled my thanks as I squeezed into the aisle. I reached into the overhead bin for my tote, but there were other items in the way. I started pulling them out and handing them down to the people in the seats around me. I had just reached my tote and was about to pull it down and head toward the now open exit when I heard the lady against the window in the front row say something about a walking stick.

Until then I had been removing items because they were standing between me and a hasty exit. But I remembered seeing this physically challenged lady in the airport. I could see the stick, but there were bags in the way. So as people were filing past me to get out the door, I kept pulling the bags out and passing them down. I reached her stick, stepped down and handed it to her. She thanked me and smiled. I smiled back, "You're welcome." I turned back toward the door where the flight attendant was smiling too, "That was nice of you." I smiled back, "Thanks." As I walked down the ramp, I knew that small act of kindness was more for me than for anyone else. I needed that moment of "doing." A window God opened for me, however brief, in the middle of my struggle to focus on someone else's need. He knows my heart better than I know it myself. In the midst of all the prayers I had been bombarding him with all day, he had answered one I didn't even know I was crying out for. That is a God I can trust. Now if he can only arrange for my suitcase to be at baggage claim...