His Mission, His Leading, His Calling

Sitting, ready to leave, I am a bit nervous as the check in lady had to make a call to and punch in some numbers before printing me a ticket, notifying the voice on the other side, my destination as San Diego.  Ready to arrive home and yet a question mark.  I asked her if everything was okay and she answered an unconfident, yes.  While tentatively perched near the gate for my flight to Munich, I recognize because he has in hand a pool cue case, a man that arrived with me on the flight to Split.  He seems to recognize me as I was the only oriental that flew with him here, and there aren’t many oriental ‘tourists’ or travelers at this time of year.  The duty free shops begin to open as we arrive as if by plan they hope us to make a final purchase.  Then, an announcement come over the reverberous speaker in the mostly empty room.  "Would a Mr. R-ee, Robert, Allen, please immediately contact the ticket desk."

I now know what all the ruckus was about.  My departure plane delayed, I would miss my connection flight to Munich.  If I hadn’t arrived early at the airport with my other returning friends, my delayed incoming plane planned to depart to Munich would not arrive in time to make my connecting flight home, and in doing so, I would not find myself here now.  Instead, I find myself now joining my friends on the plane to Zagreb, Croatia, and will jump another jet to Munich.  All smiles, the attendants are seemingly ‘trying’ to be encouraging.   

As I arrive in Zagreb, I hear my name, am asked to wait until they check the passengers deplaning with me.  Once done, I am handed all my tickets to home and personally wisked to the passport check again, eventually jump on the bus from the gate, shuttled to the jetway stairs of my next plane, doors of the bus remaining closed for a long time…a long time.  Finally an apparently ill passenger is helped up the stairs and once on board the signal is given for the rest of us to join her.  As I sit and have a moment to look at the paperwork handed to me with my boarding passes, I discover that I arrive twenty minutes AFTER the boarding time for Philly, leaving only 10 minutes to transition to my next flight.  From national to international?  Uh…no way.

As I continue winging my way farther and farther from friends and the familiar, being wisked away to what may or may not be waiting for me in Munich, it is here where faith, my faith in my God, and my trust in His divine plan, brings peace.  While the outcome may be fine, or could be riddled with trouble, if I pay attention to even my previous escapades of the getting me here, and the smoothness in spite of the chaos that could have occurred, I choose to go there.  Not that I’ll end up ‘there’, but rather that I choose to start there and hope all goes as before.  I have had issues on flights before.  Mostly, blessed travel has filled my myriad trips national and international.  Even in the worst of trips, while extremely delayed by weather, I did arrive safely home the day I expected.

This trip could either be fine, or fall apart before me as I progress toward the place I now set my heart on seeing.  With each passing moment, I long for the comfort of the arms of my beloved and her most precious smile.  She, being the gem of my life, the beauty that washes this soul with warmth and joy is now the primary reason I am drawn home.  And as I muse of her, the captain tells us we will arrive in Munich (along with all the other obligatory information about flying over Salzberg, speed and altitude) late.  Ten more minutes late.  Once again, I could worry and fret, but once again I choose to move toward trust, not panic.  Concern?  Sure.  It would be idiotic to just stick my head in the sand as if that would get me home.  The truth is, I will get there.  The only answer is?  When;  As planned and scheduled?  Or with delay?  Will my luggage, with 4 liters of Croatian olive oil and clothes, arrive with me?  Or will it be lost or ????  Sure, things cross my mind, but again, it will be as it will be.  It is only ‘stuff’.  I have so much more precious cargo at home.

My soul musing  ‘in the moment’ reminds me, as my writing last year served, and my friends of the dumping of orange juice in my lap, and the importance of these word altars.  If I take the time to revisit my musing, the altars of past stories and thoughts as I move through the difficulties and joys of life, I can find solace as I see and revisit the hand of God caring for me.   As one of my friends comments on my Facebook page, “these blogs combined with the pictures help us feel like we are there with you”.  The process of thinking, writing and musing work in my heart, and I hope in some ways yours, bringing understanding of this small life of faith.  I sit humbly and graciously in this seat, just another passenger heading home, joining some heading to another adventure.  I find myself heading toward both.  The adventure at home will be the next steps toward return, the dealing with what ails my dad, and the dog that has missed her buddy, the lovely lady who enriches my life with joy, and work.  I have walked the streets of Livno in abundance, preparing me for my walks with Honey, our dog.  I will continue to head toward the adventures that await, today and ?

The plane from Split was delayed as they held it for my luggage and transition to Zagreb.  The delay in boarding of the ill passenger requiring assistance? An additional 20 minutes.  I arrive and miss my plane to Philly.  What is with this trip?  I looked on the flight board to find my gate and it was not there.  My slightly panicked state and the fruitless search delayed my front place in line exiting the shuttle bus as other passengers keep moving on.  We all have to have our carry on reexamined after getting off the plane even though our baggage had already been examined in a foreign land before being allowed into the airport.  Yes.  I got x-rayed, and my bags examined once again.  What is it with this?  I must look very suspicious!  After opening bags, taking pictures with my camera, examining every lens, looking at my pulmoaid and  finally being released, I searched for someone to find compassion on this disconnected traveler and find I did.  Definitely not warm and friendly looking, I found two policia.  One of them was armed with an uzi strapped to his chest, one hand regularly resting on it.  I ask him about information and he and his partner take me to the wrong direction further away from my transition gate.  I discover they are leading me to the Luftanza information desk. 

My heart pounding, maybe from being escorted by two men one with an uzi firmly strapped to his chest or maybe from hearing, in English as we passed some by standing travelers, “ at least we didn’t do anything wrong and need to be escorted by the local police.”, I arrive at the Luftansa ticket desk.  Three attendants are purposefully helping customers.   A lovely statuesque German blonde (I wish I had the nerve to take a picture of her)  whom one could easily tell she was statuesque even while perched on her chair was talking on the phone.  Noticing my stance of lost discomfort and weary traveler inquisitive eyes she recognized my silent call for help.  Rapidly finishing her conversation the precisely cut blonde bobbed agent asks how she can help me.  I pour out my circumstances to Angelika.  Something told me as I noticed her badge that she would be ‘my travel angel’, and indeed, she was.  Rapidly (as rapidly as one can typing with two slender but lengthy fingers) she typed away.  And typed away, and typed away.  Stoic and unchanging demeanor, she typed away.  My heart was trying to maintain expectation, but the longer she typed and then peered at the spreadsheet like papers on her left, I could feel my hopes fading as if thrown out of the airplane at 35,000 feet.  

Then, suddenly her typing accelerated and a smile broke her lips.  With one final jab at the keyboard she seemed quite thrilled with herself (well, as thrilled as this Germanic lady at the customer desk would allow herself) and she told me she found a flight and that I would arrive in San Diego EARLIER than I would have on my scheduled flight.  Earlier?  How can that be?  I will leave later, and arrive at Ohare, and then off to home, sooner.  The only drawback is that I am to pick up my luggage, go through customs, and jump my next plane home with only an hour and a half layover.  I told Angelika that she had become my travel angel and she responded that it is what she always hopes to be.  She quickly corrected my pronunciation of her name from my botched attempt calling her Anhelika rather than Anjelika (j in American, not Bosnian, Croatian or Spanish for that matter).   So, here my weary and slightly sore rear is posited in a chair on a different airline heading to a different location and we’ll see what happens.  

Needless to say, I do not like flying into Ohare.  Flight delays are frequent, both in and out and I have had cancellations etc. (not flight delays) there.  So, while I usually avoid Ohare like the plague, I now find myself soon soaring toward it.  But, I am heading to my homeland today!  Having just finished the peanut butter and jelly sandwich Carrie made for me when I left, and now chewing on some beef jerky from, where else? But Costco?  My heart once again remains optimistic, and it seems my God has not let me down so far away from home.  So more will be added as I press homeward….

Having boarded my plane to the states, the pilot shares with us some new information.  The airspace over France closed, the powers that be, needed to recreate a new flight path so they can load it into the airplane computer…delaying our departure.  Yet another  complication that could raise blood pressure and angst, but yet again?  I am walking in faith.  Now I must admit, that after deboarding in Munich, not seeing my flight gate on the immediate board as I exited and then loosing precious time getting stuck further and further behind the x-ray scanner (yes Munich seems extra careful as we enter even their airport), that did affect my blood pressure.  I’d expected someone to meet me at the gate and usher me to my plane, and even my Lufthansa angel thought that should have been the case, but nope.  So now, after watching 3 Batman movies I have yet to see, I once again turn to my computer.  I find myself yawning like crazy and am not sure if I should sleep, or forge ahead awake. 

Me, sitting at the window, my neighbor one seat away is a cute 6 or 7 year old girl, her first trip in a plane. Positioned next to her in the aisle seat is her father, Rudy, a Serbian traveling from his homeland Serbia.  Most might be bothered by Anna’s antics, bumping me or stretching out her play area onto my tray table, but not this guy.  She is comfortable sitting next to me and I even get a chance to play with her a bit too.  Her dad, probably as old as I was quite pleased that I seem to be making the most of the time Anna and I get to spend next to one another.   

As the flight attendant passes out customs forms, Rudy and I, now standing by the bathrooms stretching our legs giving our posteriors a rest, talk a bit about life and the elections in Serbia.  Rudy speaks good English, speaking of all the promises made by elected officials and the lack of delivery after elected.  Hmmm....sounds familiar.  Having forgotten a pen, after he finishes filling out his customs forms and the visiting traveler's forms he lets me borrow his pen for my customs form (memo for next trip, don't forget your pen...already now in my backpack).  Okay..maybe time for a short nap.

As I arrive, my first stop in the states, even this weary traveler finds greater peace and security finding myself on American ‘soil’.  Once again, in an interminable security line, I find myself forging onward from the international to the national terminal.  Once again, told by security that I’d have plenty of time to make my plane.  Sound familiar?  Only this time, I did.  Not plenty of time, but made the gate, 10 minutes before boarding.  Calling my beloved, I finally rest confident, as confident as any traveler could be, that in four more hours, I’d be home.  So as I go, as I went, as I followed, this trip, while it could have been significantly more challenging, has had the way paved with care, prayer and with the peace that passes all understanding.  Thanks to a loving God and His kindness toward this small traveler, on mission, His mission, His leading, His calling for His servant.  And indeed, full of thanksgiving, I find myself, home.