The Hand of God

 I am in Scotland. S C O T L A N D.

This is me; Joanna, the one whose comfort zone is within about one square mile, who said she never wanted to leave the USA, who hates to travel on anything public, who nearly hyperventilates at the mere mention of airplanes. How is this possible that I am here? Only by God's grace. Every step in front of the other, every long line, every minute on those airplanes was enabled by God's grace. On my end, it wasn't always pretty--usually it was very ugly--and I may have said, "I can't do this" more times than we could count (Josh had to tell me to quit saying that), but God was faithful to me and I have a really great story about one such miracle to share with you, but for perspective and contrast I have to share a really ugly story first. Here goes: 

We dropped off our rental car in Dublin about 11am, and had to ride a shuttle bus back to the Dublin airport to catch our 1:10pm "quick" flight over to Edinburgh, Scotland (why does a 45-minute flight need to take 5 hours out of your day?). We were at the front of the line to get on the bus and I was somewhat successfully keeping my mind off of all the people in line behind me. 

Until we got on the bus. 

People relentlessly kept boarding; shoving and squeezing onto this bus. All the seats filled. It was hot in there. There was an advertisement wrap blocking the view out of each and every window so you couldn't see outside. People were now pressed into the aisles, standing room only, like sardines. I kept looking to the bus driver, hoping that he would say in his Irish brogue, "Bus is full. The rest of you will have to wait 'til the next one." But no such announcement ever came. I started to sweat and feel dizzy. Nauseated. I couldn't get out if I wanted to. Oh, this was bad. The bus had finally started to move by now, filled to what I would consider double-or-triple-capacity (does no one else feel the need for personal space???). We hit every red light between the car rental lot and the airport, and in between traffic lights we crept along at what felt like 5 mph. A year later, we finally pulled up to the first stop, Terminal 2. Our flight was departing from Terminal 1, but I couldn't stay on that bus one more minute. Josh suggested we could get off and walk to Terminal 1, and I wailed a little too loudly, "YES! I need to get OFF this BUS." 

The doors opened, but no one seemed to move. "I have to get off this bus, NOW" I hissed at Josh. Or maybe I yelled it, I'm not sure, but I was getting off. That. Bus. How I got off, I still can't remember, but when I emerged, I inhaled that glorious 55 degree air as though I'd just come up from underwater. In through the nose, out through the mouth, filling my lungs with fresh, clean, uncrowded air. Panic attack, much?

I think we can all agree that was the low point in this story. But what I wanted to point out in telling it was this: Where was God in that account? Did I mention Him one time? Did I even think of Him one time? Or were my eyes on my circumstances and was I listening to my own irrational thoughts? I think we all know the answer. Keep reading, though. It does get WAY better!

Well, I think everyone on the planet had a flight to catch out of Dublin at that time, because the airport was positively teeming with people. I was still queasy from my just-lost battle with anxiety, still not thrilled with the thought of more people, but what choice did we have? We waited in a crazy long line to show our passports, that it turns out we didn't even need to be in, and then we were on our way to TSA security. The overhead screens were showing a 23 minute wait in the security line. Twenty-three minutes? To wait to be screened? With another horde of people? Our flight was due to take off in 35 minutes! Would we make it? I was getting panicky again. We snaked around the barriers and were shoved and sorted through a turnstyle and then on to another labyrinth of switchbacks. There was no door out, no place I could successfully take a break from the line or get some air. I started to feel lightheaded and sick again, when I remembered the verse cards in my purse that I had made for such a time as this. I yanked them out and tried reading them silently in line.

"You make known to me the path of life; in Your presence there is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore." Ps 16:11

God was here with me! And I could have joy in His presence.

"The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies Me; to the one who orders his way rightly I will show the salvation of God!" Ps 50:23

Give thanks in this situation. "Thank you, Lord, for this situation. I don't understand it, but thank you! I need your salvation!"

Then the Lord brought to mind a song I have long loved, titled "Be Not Afraid." (maybe I'll link it below) Call me weird, but I began singing that song right out loud in the midst of the throngs of people. You do what you gotta do.

And I hope I never forget what happened next.

It was starting to get worrisome that we might not make our flight. We were coming up to yet another sifting of people into the actual TSA lines, to that point every person has been before, where you have to decide which line to get in and hope you picked a good one. We saw someone that had previously been behind us in another line in that airport, and Josh said we should get in that one. Anyone that had been behind us and was now in front of us, probably had good judgment. :)

I was still singing aloud and praying the words of my song back to the Lord as we joined the back of that line. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a TSA employee approached our family and said, "Could you please spread out this way and help me fill all of the lines? Follow me." We did, and to my eyes it looked like the Red Sea of people simply parted and we walked through on dry ground. We were no longer being pressed on every direction, we were sprinting unhindered.... to the front of the Pre-check Priority line! The Lord sent someone to snatch us out of that miry clay and set our feet on a rock. :) I turned to my family and proclaimed, "Did you see that? God did that!" We exuberantly began unloading our things into bins and onto the conveyor belt. I couldn't see through my tears! 

But it gets better!!

In my haste to get through TSA (a family of five in TSA is like a herd of turtles) and my utter shock and amazement at what had unfolded, I forgot to pour out Eden's and my water bottles. To be honest, I forgot we even had water bottles. When our two bags got searched because of the water, the TSA agent was very kind (despite the fact that he had asked us 3 times if all our liquids had been dumped), and decided just to test the water in the bottles rather than pour them out. Josh had not been so fortunate, and had been required to dump out the last few sips of his. 

TSA over with, minds still buzzing with the miracle we had just witnessed, and bags put back together, we checked the monitors to find out that our flight was on its FINAL BOARDING CALL! We had to run about a mile to our gate, where we arrived puffing and panting, and completely parched, with no time to refill water. But remember? The Lord had already saved us 2 water bottles full of water from the TSA line. I couldn't believe it. I cried more tears of thanksgiving at His unexpected provision. 

God's Word is true. He keeps His promises. He lovingly cares for His children. 

I'll post some Scotland pictures another time. 

For now, here I raise my Ebenezer (rock of remembrance); hither by Thy help I've come!