As a part of my work, I serve on a few denominational boards, including The United General Board of Higher Education and Ministry. The title sounds rather impressive, doesn’t it? Our board is concerned with learning and the formation of leaders for our church. The board is comprised of United Methodists from all over the country and from around the world, and we meet twice a year.

I was traveling to Nashville for the spring meeting of this board when it occurred – the travel day from hell. It was as if the Marquis de Sade were the trip planner for the day, or as if the plans made for my day were mapped out in some ancient document from the medieval inquisition. Well, maybe I am being just a bit dramatic.

I was up at 4 a.m. on Thursday March 6 to catch a 6 a.m. flight to Nashville from Duluth. I was at the airport at the duly recommended time of 5 a.m. with all my liquid carry-ons – deodorant and toothpaste, neatly packed in a Ziploc bag for easy viewing by the TSA. I was ready with my boarding pass and ID when going through security, and was ready to roll. Please understand my jubilation at these seemingly small events. Getting up at 4 a.m. is for me something like those practices of mortification of the flesh that one sometimes hears about, or even witnessed in the “spiritual practice” of the demented monk in the DaVinci Code.

Anyway, the time came to board the plane, and in a slight touch of cruelty on a cold morning in Duluth, we had to walk outside to get on the place. Part way across the tarmac, we were turned around. The plane was experiencing mechanical difficulties. We returned to the terminal where two employees of the airline began to see what could be done to get us on other flights. One seemed very calm and competent. The other seemed overwhelmed by this turn of events – not a good sign for those of us waiting to see what might happen next. Well, about an hour later, we were told that the plane would board in about twenty minutes – the problem had been solved. There was much rejoicing.

We boarded the plane, and waited. Soon the pilot came on to tell us that a warning light was on in the cockpit, and though it was probably just the cold weather, we needed someone to come and check it out. We waited. The mechanic came. The pilot got on the radio again to say that we would be taking off when the paper work was completed. Why didn’t that thought encourage me? After a short while, the pilot again got on the radio to say that the paperwork was nearing completion, but we needed gas. Aren’t completing paperwork and filling up with gas activities that might occur simultaneously? But what do I know, I’m not a pilot.

We finally took off, three and a half hours late. My connecting flight in Detroit was long gone by the time I arrived. Not to worry, there was a 2 p.m. flight to Nashville on the same airline with room for me. I could relax, find my quiet center, and grab a quick bite to eat. The bite had to be quick, because my time was limited, so I grabbed something and returned to the gate at the requisite time, thirty minutes before takeoff. I would miss most of the afternoon meeting, but looked forward to greeting old friends at dinner. But the departure time had been changed. Now it was 2:30. 2:30 became 3:00, then 3:30. The plane that was supposed to take us to Nashville was not leaving South Bend due to mechanical difficulties. I began to wonder if the other passengers should ask me to leave the airport – I was feeling a bit like Jonah with trouble following me everywhere I went. 3:30 became 4:30, then 5:30 – then CANCELLED. What to do now. Well, I waited in line, and the person at the counter, who worked with grace and good humor throughout, told me that the computer had already booked me for a flight to Charlotte, North Carolina with a connection to Nashville. I would miss dinner but still get there at a respectable 8:30. I was handed new boarding passes and a few coupons for dinner.

I found a restaurant and again had to eat a little more quickly than I might have liked. I made my way to the appropriate gate, only to find that the gate had been changed. No problem I still had plenty of time to get there. Unfortunately, I had even more time than I desired. The plane to Charlotte was leaving 90 minutes later than scheduled. I quickly did the math and figured I could get to Charlotte, but not catch the flight to Nashville.

Three gate personnel later, I located the woman who had first been so helpful in Detroit. I was booked on a flight to Philadelphia with a connecting flight to Nashville arriving there about 11:30 p.m. At least I would get to Nashville before the day was out. This time it all worked out, and I arrived at my hotel at about midnight. Let’s see, 5 a.m. to midnight – I had been in airplanes, at airports or on shuttles for 19 hours!! I would like to go the rest of my life without a day like this again, though the chances are something like this may just come my way another time.

In the midst of all my running from gate to gate, and all my worrying about spending the night in a chair at the Detroit airport, I caught a little bit of news. CNN was on all over the place, and the news that day was not good. In Jerusalem, a gunman had entered a seminary killing eight – this following days of violence in Gaza as the Israeli army had entered the territory following Hamas rocket attacks. In Gaza, guns were shot off in celebration over the news of the seminary shooting. Will the violence there never end? Will peace ever come? College campuses were reeling as two young college students had been murdered in the past couple of days, one at Auburn and one at North Carolina – Chapel Hill. Stupid, senseless violence cutting life short.

Yes, my day was not what I would have hoped for or planned. But I was warm, sometimes a little too warm lugging my carry-on bags from one end of the Detroit airport to the other, and I was fed. I was not staring at the barrel of a gun held in the hands of a person whose only goal is to do harm and get revenge in some form. I was not a friend of someone who just lost their life to random violence, nor was I a parent grieving the death of a child. While I was at the airport, my older daughter called me from college to discuss some of her spring break plans.

Life can be frustrating when our plans go awry. We can get impatient when timetables are missed, when airplanes are not ready to fly. We would do well in such situations to breathe deeply, slow down our reaction times, do the best we can, and never forget to be kind. Life, even life at the Detroit airport, is a gift that God would have us use well.

Listening to my MP3 player on the last leg of my journey, I couldn’t help but chuckle inside (and on an airplane, in the middle seat, it is best to keep your chuckling to yourself!) as these three songs followed each other in succession:

Don’t Worry Baby, The Beach Boys
Sweet Home Alabama, Lynard Skynard (there were at least a few places I had not been
scheduled to fly that day)
The Waiting, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (the chorus includes the words: “the
waiting is the hardest part”)

Be well. Be kind.

With Faith and With Feathers,

David