The Vacation That Almost Wasn’t

My friend asked me to go to California and visit her aunt and sightsee. Although I don’t like to sit for long periods of time I thought it would be my only chance to visit that state and agreed. She always packs ahead of time, often buying new items, packing them long before time to leave. I’m the opposite. Much of my things I still use until just before I leave.

I had an argument with myself about taking my checkbook or not. I finally decided to leave it at home. To save money on airport parking, we stayed at a hotel near the Pittsburgh airport with shuttle service. In the middle of the night, I suddenly realized my driver’s license was in my checkbook. Panic time! I needed my I.D. to board the plane. At 1:00 A.M. we’re making an emergency run home and back to the hotel. If we’d have slept longer or if I hadn’t remembered that my license was at home still in my checkbook, I wouldn’t have been able to fly with my friend. She’s a good friend and has ALMOST forgiven me. All it cost was time, some harassment, and a tank of gasoline. Looking back, God was telling me, “Take the checkbook” but I was trying to rationalize whether or not to take the checkbook. I was actually being told not to forget it.

The first leg of the journey was complete, making it to the airport. Going through the TSA was a hassle, but necessary. The first agent I met kept saying, “Take off this and take off that.” I teasingly said, “Next they’ll want to know my underwear size. She said that “the comment was uncalled for” and scowled. After retrieving my clothes and items, then redressing, I approached her, apologized and gave her a Gospel tract. She seemed mollified.

On board there was a family from the Middle East sitting in front of us. I felt a prodding to share a tract with them. I wondered how I would do it. I knew custom wouldn’t allow me to approach his wife or two young daughters. I also knew sharing with the two sons was also inappropriate, so I thought, “God if you want me to share Your Word with them, show me how.”

Right before we landed the younger son, maybe 10 years old, gently touched his father’s hair, face, and rested his head on the father. I leaned forward saying, “Your son really loves you.” When the father nodded, I gave him the tract telling him about another Son’s love for his Father.” He accepted the tract. I found out that they were from Syria.

Across the aisle, a young man was restless as though he was concerned about flying. The engines were too loud to follow up on the tract I gave him, but we found out that he was from Yemen. (To be continued)