Remember how I told you that my last blog was going to be my final post from the States? Yeah, turns out that was a lie.
Well, I guess it wasn’t technically a lie. I mean, I fully intended on it being the last one before I took off to India. But, if there is anything I have learned about God throughout this World Race process, it is that he is totally unpredictable in the way he does things. Yes, God’s character is the same yesterday and today and forever (Hebrews 13:8); but, he often reveals that constant character in an unexpected fashion.
But, why? Why doesn’t he just do things in a way that makes sense to us—that seems logical or easy?
I think there’s a pretty simple answer to that one: He does things that only He can do in ways that only He can do them in order to leave us no choice but to recognize him and his glory.
You see, as I’m writing this, I am still sitting in the airport. Our flight to Qatar was scheduled to take off at 7:25 on the night of August 7th. Yet, here we still are—sitting in Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport on the afternoon of August 8. The plane that we were supposed to be on for nearly 14 hours had been damaged somehow; the flight was cancelled.
We had to get all of our bags back. We had to go sleep at another hotel for the night. And then—we had to get up and do it all over again.
But, I’d be doing you an injustice if I cut the story off there.
Because, if I were to cut the story off there then you wouldn’t get to hear about that time when Ben helped a random Arabic man put on his belt in the middle of the airport gate; you wouldn’t get to hear about how the squad all got closer over some intense—and slightly hostile—card games; you wouldn’t get to hear about how when Jackie lost her luggage her team and the entire squad rallied around her and covered her in prayer and love; you wouldn’t get to hear about how we unashamedly formed a prayer circle as we were surrounded by people from multiple nations in the middle of the airport; you wouldn’t get to hear about how an airport employee named Cynthia boldly joined in on that circle of people she’d never met and began to send up prayers of her own; you wouldn’t get to hear about how when we offered to pray for the guy helping us load our luggage onto the hotel shuttle the driver stood up and announced that he was a pastor and wanted to lead the prayer.
I’ve recently come to the conclusion that, rather than victory, it is actually adversity that serves as the glue that binds us to each other. Sure, all of us would love to be on a plane to India right now; there’s no escaping the fact that we were all disappointed when we heard that voice come over the intercom to tell us that we wouldn’t be leaving Atlanta last night.
But, somehow—in the midst of all that chaos—we found a common ground that brought us all back to each other: Jesus.
Adversity backs us into a corner and demands that we make a choice: retreat into ourselves and our comforts or press into Jesus and each other. We all made that choice. We all decided on Jesus.
Jesus is bigger than damaged planes. Jesus is bigger than lost luggage. Jesus is bigger than logistical nightmares. Jesus is bigger.
God reveals his great grace in the moments when it would be easiest for us to push away from him. But, when adversity hits—if we are willing to let the Spirit move—if we are willing to become more glued together—we’ll be able to see the great glory that is to be revealed in us (Romans 8:18). For it’s in these moments when trusting God seems hardest that we need to press into him and each other even more.
Because, when we press into Jesus and when we press into each other, we find that there truly is no where else in this world that we’d rather be: right there—in that moment—making glue.
