I was a freshman in college the first time I was ever in an airplane. I was on a trip with my fellow band nerds to march in a Thanksgiving Day parade in Philidelphia. And that day, Jesus blessed me with a window seat.
Luckily the people around me on the plane were people I knew, so I had no problem blocking their view out the little window with my head. I was enamored with flying so much. On that first flight, I barely blinked. I remember blocking out everyone else with my headphones (Owl City was my airplane jams) and plastering my noggin against the window. I loved the feeling of taking off. I loved the feeling of landing. Every time there was turbulance, I would laugh with excitement. My friend Kaitlyn, on the other hand, was behind me throwing up from motion sickness.
Imagine me, little Megan, with these huge headphones on, completely oblivious to the girl behind me throwing up, and my face, lit up with the most radiant smile, pretty much glued to the window. I was obviously not a frequent flyer. It sounds rediculous, but that flight was one of the most jubilant experiences of my life.
I have flown a handful of times since, each time envying the person who got the window seat. On the way to launch, I was in the back of the plane where there weren’t even any windows. Why even would there not be windows?!
Anyway, fast forward. Launch was over, and we had just spent the past 2 days in airports. I was standing by ChanMan in the line to get through security, and I realized- my passport was gone. I didn’t have it.
Jesus was with me- I did not freak out. Instead, I just sat there, mouth agape, as I listened to my Squad Leaders ask me questions like: “Did you check your bag? When did you last have it? Did you set it down anywhere? Did you check all your pockets?”
Mouth still agape, I followed my Squad Leaders Greg and Quinn around like a lost puppy while they were calling our Squad Mentor and all kinds of airport security. I checked everything in my bag three times. I checked my jacket pockets more than that.
I don’t lose things. I just don’t. I keep up with my stuff. I am the last person I expected this to happen to, yet, there I was, being that guy who lost their passport. I was not going to Haiti. I had misheard God… The World Race was a mistake.
Quinn stayed behind with me to help me get a new passport and figure out transportation and a place to stay. Even though the Squad Leaders were doing everything they could to try to find my passport and get me to Haiti, I was already mentally booking my flight back to Houston. I was so confused and I felt so lied to by God. Why would he go through this whole charade of affirming this decision I made, only to shut the door at the last minute?
While I was doodling away my feelings in a journal- I could think of no words to write at this point- Quinn got a call from Greg. Someone had found my passport! Before I could ask any questions, we were being rushed through the airport by a security guard with ten minutes until take off. We breezed through check in, we breezed through security, and in just a few minutes we arrived to the plane that was waiting for us.
They didn’t even check my boarding pass. They just rushed me on through, and when I boarded the plane, Quinn behind me, D Squad erupted in applause and cheering.
At first I was embarrased- I mean, I was that guy that lost their passport on the first travel day, but as soon as I saw my spot I lost it. There, on the plane to Haiti, waiting for me, was a window seat.
I sat down and just sobbed. My squad mates all around me were hugging me and patting my shoulders and telling me how glad they were that I made it. The plane started moving as soon as I collected myself and put in my earbuds, and as we lifted off the ground, I was listening to these words:
I am who He says I am. He is who He says He is. I’m defined by all His promises, shaped by every word He says.
Jesus was romancing me in that moment. I believe that He Himself took the passport away from the girl who doesn’t lose things, just so He Himself could return it to her. I do not go back on my word, daughter. I do not go back on my word.
And so I lost it again, and laughed, and just plastered my face against the window.
