I arrived at the departing gate for Delta #003 knowing I was late. The plane was supposed to have left 30 minutes ago! Even with the posted delay, it should be taxing. I handing my ticket to the agent and started walking down the ramp.
“Stop. You need to check-in at the counter first.”
“Ok.”
The counter was crowded. I wanted to interrupt but the intense looks from everyone there told me that my intuition was not the answer. I waited patiently until finally my need to speak took over.
“London?”
“Are you the London passenger? Why didn’t you say something?”
It was an interesting question, especially in context.
“My apologies. What would you like me to do.” I was learning how this game worked.
“Come here.”
Again, I started to walk down the ramp.
“Stop. Wait until you have an escort. I need to make sure your bag is put back on the plane.”
My mind was screaming. How could they do this to me? Why was it so difficult to get on a plane? Did I really need an escort? I took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, and waited.
After what seemed hours (less than five minutes), my escort came and picked me up.
“Come with me. I want to make sure you did not get on the wrong plane. Please excuse the wait. My first priority was to make sure your luggage traveled with you.”
I boarded the flight with a row to myself. What was unfolding into a disaster, played out quite differently. It was similar to Paul’s perceived failure. The reality was that “Paul’s efforts with the Jews weren’t a total loss, for Crispus, the meeting-place president, put his trust in the Master. His entire family believed with him.” (Acts 18.8)
I thought the story was over for now. My luggage was safely stored. I had a row to myself. Things were better than I ever imagined. It would be easy to assume the story was over. I knew this was not the case, but for now, I could rest.
