Traveling with Jesus

I’ve traveled more this summer than I ever have before, sometimes returning home for only a day or two before striking out again. My last trip of the summer was to California to meet up with an old friend and hike the stunning eastern Sierra Nevada, where we both had backpacked in our 20s. I smiled as I packed my trekking poles and hiking boots. I would be escaping the heat of the East Coast and reveling in the beautiful mountains, lakes, and streams of the high Sierras.

But first I had to get there and that proved to be more daunting than I ever imagined.

I’m a big fan of nonstop flying so I was stunned to see that the tickets I had purchased in April actually required three legs just to get to Palm Springs—which was not my final destination. My friend and I would be driving up the east side of the Sierra Nevada to where we had rented a townhouse in the town of Mammoth Lakes. 

The first leg of my flight went well. I arrived in Seattle on time, but the next leg was delayed repeatedly until I was fairly certain I would miss the third and final leg of my journey. What to do? Should I stay in Seattle and hope for a direct flight to Palm Springs or should I get on the flight that was now boarding for Portland, hours late? I opted to go to Portland. I figured it was heading in the right direction and the people I had befriended at the gate told me the airport was much nicer there. But by the time I got there, I was exhausted in part because my injured hand was burning with pain. I did not want to take painkillers before I was at a destination for the night. I wasn’t sure how the painkillers would impact me since prior to this adventure I had always taken them at bedtime and gone directly to bed. The airline people were helpful, if slow, and eventually they booked me into a hotel in Portland, still awake but in a lot of pain both physical and mental after having been told that I would not be able to catch another flight to Palm Springs until the following evening.

The next morning, I felt rested, but super triggered. This was not going the way I wanted. I called a trusted friend and she did some intense prayer ministry with me. That was better.

Wow, after encountering Jesus in the session I felt that it had all been worthwhile just to get the deep healing I was now experiencing. I got a toothbrush from the front desk, brushed my teeth at the hotel and headed for the airport. I got a boarding pass with the all-important seat assignment and spent the day strolling around the airport, reading, and eating sushi.

I got to Palm Springs later that night and a day later we were headed for the glorious mountains. We reveled in the views as we drove up Highway 395. We hiked and rested. We enjoyed being together, sharing what I had been up to the last two decades. My friend was very interested in all I had learned and I was happy to share. But as the time for my return home approached, I began to feel anxious. Airport personnel had told me to avoid San Francisco because they were building a new runway. I looked online and sure enough Google AI said that typical flights in and out of SFO were delayed around 25 minutes. I only had 40 minutes to change planes.

I had asked all 56 of my intercessors to pray that everything would go smoothly and that I would make all of my flight connections. It did not occur to me to pray any other way. It seemed like a no-brainer. Many times I had asked my intercessors to pray and then watched as door after door seemed to swing open. 

I got to the airport in Palm Springs super early on the morning of my departure. I was supposed to be home by five o’clock in the afternoon. Home to DCA at least—the airport closest to downtown DC. But it was not to be.

About five minutes before we were supposed to board, they announced the flight was delayed. I couldn’t believe it. I approached the podium to see if there were other options. The two boarding agents both urged me to fly instead to Seattle.

“Not Seattle,” I groaned. Not the airport where I sat waiting as one announcement after another told of a flight delay that would make me miss my next leg. I was pretty certain that what I wanted was right with a capital R. In fact, it didn’t occur to me to ask the Lord what he had in mind. How he was praying for me. I did not want to go back to Seattle.

I remember the long lines and the crowds. Twice I had waited over an hour in line just to talk to an agent if there were other options.

Now, standing at the podium in Palm Springs, the gate agents were asking again if I would be willing to go to Seattle. And finally, I reluctantly agreed. They scurried outside to pull my suitcase from the plane and put it on the fight at the next gate, the one bound for Seattle. But they also urged me to use a wheelchair. 

“I don’t have any trouble walking,” I said. “It’s my hand that’s the problem.”

“We know,” they said, “but it will make a big difference. Believe us, we deal with this every day. They will know where your gate is. They will know how to get there quickly. They will help you more than you know, and it doesn’t matter that the problem is your hand rather than your legs.”

“OK,” I reluctantly agreed.

My original flight took off. A few minutes later I boarded the flight for Seattle. At some point on the flight, I heard the Lord say to me—as he often does, speaking to my mind, dropping a sentence into my skull—Aren’t you excited about the people you’re going to meet on the journey?

Had I heard right? Then I heard it again. Aren’t you excited about the people you’re going to meet on the journey? 

Then it occurred to me the Lord had a purpose for redirecting my journey. 

The flight to Seattle was uneventful. I walked off the airplane and got in a wheelchair. My wheelchair driver was skilled at navigating the thick crowds and got me to my gate. He parked the wheelchair and then walked along the rows of seats trying to see if any were available. He finally found one some distance away, but by then I realized I needed to eat, and so I simply told him not to worry. I was going to go find food and then I would come back. I found a delicious Poké bowl just a few doors down and returned to eat slowly.

By the time I got back, a nearby flight had boarded, and there were more empty seats. I struck up a conversation with a young woman traveling with her family, including a meowing cat. They were returning from Korea and would be living in my area for the first time. I was able to answer questions and tell her about the Korean parts of the metro DC area. She was thrilled to hear that there were Korean grocery stores since she had grown to love the food there. We also talked about the different school districts. It was an enjoyable conversation, and it also meant that I had someone who was willing to watch my things while I went up to find water or to use the restroom.

Soon my flight boarded and left on time. I sat next to a woman in the medical field who was interested in Sam’s death. I was happy to share with her how me and my kids all worked together to support Sam as he took his final breaths. The stewardesses kept my water bottle full of ice water, so even though I was in pain there was some relief.

At DCA, I was met by a beautiful Ethiopian woman who again wheeled me through the airport and knew just where to go. I was beginning to see more and more that God had divine appointments for me along the way. 

She pulled my suitcase off the baggage turnstile and wheeled me and my suitcase out to the Lyft pickup. I had spent all my cash and had no way to give her a tip, but I impulsively stood up and gave her a big hug. I could tell she loved it. And I did, too! I was sensing more and more that I was partnering with God in bringing joy to the people who were serving me. 

Soon I was in the back of a Mazda SUV heading to my friend’s house. She gave me ice for my hand and drove me and Olivia (my dog who she had been caring for) home to rest. 

As I reflect on all that transpired, I realize I had gotten deeply dug in to the way I thought things should roll on my flights home. I got the very opposite of what I asked for yet could see that God‘s hand was in it all. I enjoyed the people I met. My needs were met in unexpected ways. I actually had a very sweet trip despite the turns in the road.

I had traveled with Jesus and he knew the way. Not only that, but he met my needs along the way.