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Grounded

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"It doesn't matter what happens next, it's not going to bother me."

I confidently exercised my faith aloud to the disbelieving passenger next to me. He snorted, as though he understood something I didn't.

"We'll see about that."

My husband and I'd been up since three in the morning to catch three different planes which would eventually land us back into the arms of our three waiting children. And they'd been waiting more than a couple of weeks for our return from the mission field.

But as God had arranged it, our second flight was delayed at take-off—delayed by more than an hour—and the likelihood of us making our last connection had nothing to do with the concept of being "likely" at all.

Despite the groans and sighs coming from the surrounding seats—including the one just next to me—I was determined to stay faithful. I would not to be shaken by the situation. I knew that this was out of my control. And what's out of my control is squarely in the control of the One I trust most. So I grinned a secret grin, trusting that God had my day mapped out.

I reflected how, over the past several months of ministry and service, God had really been teaching me about listening, exercising faith, and walking in obedience. In fact, I was delighted to be tested in such a way. And despite the fact we hadn't physically departed, felt a sense of spiritual "arrival." I relished the sense that maybe, just maybe, I was getting the hang of this faith-thing.

After more than an hour, our plane finally found its way into the sky, and we were soon settling into the next airport. Despite our late arrival, I knew God would work everything out accordingly, and that my faith would shine as a stellar beacon in the dark and disbelieving mind of my spouse.

Getting off the plane, we were directed to the service desk. And while we were waiting I could hear the attendants helping the customers in front of us…helping them find hotels for the evening and new flights in the morning. But that just wasn't the help I was looking for. So while I waited, I started praying my big-faith prayers.

God, make a way that only you can make. God, do a miracle right here! God, show up big-time; I'm waiting!

I shut my eyes while I prayed, and I didn't care who watched. I was mustering faith; I was scraping it from deep within. But it wasn't that far of a reach; my faith was shallow. And where it ended, I hit into something else hidden just below: some ugly pride. Dressed in my faith-filled prayers, thoughts like these were swirling around: let my faith-talk be justified here. Let me have the satisfaction of knowing I was right, that you'd work everything out the way I thought you would. Please don't embarrass me in front of my husband!

November10, 2009 at 6:06 PM

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