I don’t pray for patience, because I’m afraid I’ll get it.
I’m OK being impatient.
You know I’m kidding.
(Or am I?)
I’ve been up since 3:30 a.m.
My flight was supposed to leave at 5 a.m.
I travel 42 weeks/weekends a year, and I’m learning to discern what some of the pilot’s announcements actually mean.
“Delayed due to mechanical difficulties” really means we forgot to gas up.
“Delayed due to unforeseen problems,” means we can’t find the keys.
Pilot: Got the keys?
Co-Pilot: No. I don’t have the keys. I thought you had them.
Pilot: I don’t have the keys. Where are the keys?
And during the actual flight . . .
“We’re experiencing some unexpected turbulence,” really means the pilot’s son who’s traveling shotgum, got bored doing his homework and pulled a lever, turned a knob or pressed a button.
Pilot to son: “Don’t make me stop this plane. Cuz I’ll do it. I told you to concentrate on your homework!”
So I was supposed to depart at 5 a.m.
3:30 came way too early. I’m thinking on these early flights, maybe I should start calling the airline about an hour ahead of time and just check in with them:
ME: “Did someone gas up the plane? Got the keys? No children in the cockpit for this flight? Are the windshield wipers working OK? Gas pedal and brakes good? Toilet paper in the dollhouse bathroom?”
I finally leave the OKC airport at 8:45 a.m., and of course I’ve missed my connection from Chicago to Flint, MI. Now I’m enjoying a five-and-a-half layover in Chicago. That’s how long it takes to fly from OKC to London. As in England.
I could be touring Madam Tussad’s wax museum right now!
Or the Doc Martin four-story headquarters.
Or taking pix with William and Kate and the babies.
Or being issued a restraining order from William and Kate and the babies.
Instead I’m eating an Auntie Ann’s pretzel and picking off the salt.
Almost as good being in London.
I finally arrive in Flint, Mich., at 8 p.m.
The service I was scheduled to speak at started at 7.
It’s over. I totally missed it.
They turned it into a prayer meeting instead.
And God moved.
What a great reminder.
He so does NOT need me.
I’m extremely grateful He has chosen to use me.
But He doesn’t need me.
He could make the rocks cry out, or the podium speak His Word,
or have the carpet sing His praises.
Father, I’m frustrated.
But thankful for the lesson You’ve taught me today.
It’s not about my schedule, is it?
It’s not about my speaking, is it?
IT. IS. ALWAYS. ABOUT. YOU.
All the time.
In every way.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on what God uses to get YOUR attention to remind you of this truth.