strong hope.
sometimes even years.
love makes God alive in far more than human souls.
like sun and clear sky and drooping branches
and dark birds and color and design and music…
and the sound of water on a shore.
IMPOSSIBLE means that i
an ordinary young woman,
can be something special and significant
in an enormous, hurting world.
i can be love where i live,
and that is Christ…
and He really does make ALL
the difference!
it’s sunday night.
i flew in this afternoon, as i do most sundays, from speaking somewhere in the country. a garment bag over one arm and books under the other… and the feeling that at any moment something was going to drop or i would get tangled in my coat and sprawl.
i am always one of the first off the plane.
i walk very fast.
my car is usually parked in the airport garage
across from the terminal.
when i unlock the door to my little apartment,
there is no one to greet me…
no strong man to wrap me in his arms, to
laugh with me in love and belonging, shedding
my sophistication.
no one to hear whether i felt encouraged or
disappointed about people’s receptiveness to
me and my dreams.
no child to scoop up and squeeze and call
my own.
it’s amusing. a lot of people think my world is
glamorous. airplanes and hotels and faraway
cities.
there are many special things i love and cherish…
and there are long layovers in
enormous airports
and cold hotel rooms on winter nights
and crowds to stumble through,
down endlessly long corridors,
as i try to get to a gate to catch a plane,
dash and still miss it.
and people who scrutinize me with a frown when
i bound in the door of the auditorium,
and days when i am feeling so tired and so
unattractive
and i still have to smile and cover my
insecurities and weariness in front of several
hundred… instead of going home
and hiding.
it had been a successful convention, and i was
seated on a TWA jet in st. louis, returning home.
yummmmmmmm.
just as we started to pull away from the gate,
engines stopped, and a stewardess said,
“evacuate immediately. this is an emergency.
leave everything in your seats.”
and we did…
for five hours. we were kept in an area of the airport
while they thoroughly investigated a bomb
threat.
i felt drained and exhausted from a lot of speaking,
and devastated that i couldn’t be on my way home.
when we finally reboarded, i turned to the man
next to me.
“how are you feeling?”
“lousy… yep, really lousy.”
“me, too. you know, i could smack whoever
gave that bomb threat. sir, i’m a Christian.
Jesus is Lord of my life, but i’m not a ‘miss pollyanna’
in an experience like this. sir,
you know what i really love about Jesus?
i think He knows just how we feel.”
the man threw his head back and roared with
laughter.
“you’re the first Christian i ever met who
makes it sound real and exciting…”
another day i arrived in a sunny, warm southern
city to speak. i wondered, as i deboarded, who
would be there to meet me. usually, i never know
the people, and they identify me. that day, no one
did.
it was exactly thirty minutes before i was to be at a
certain hotel to address a banquet. the flight was
long, and i needed to change and freshen up. i
wandered around the terminal area awhile, hoping
someone would claim me. i saw an older couple
stare a lot in my direction. they seemed like
possible candidates…
