Let's Start From The Beginning: Part Four

We’ve all experienced it. Those stressful moments in the airport when you’re unsure if you’re going to make your flight.  You’re in the security line, stuck behind the person with the lace-up boots, five laptops, the giant bottle of shampoo, and the pocketknife they forgot was in their backpack.  All you want to do is run straight through the metal detector, daring the TSA people to chase you down as you fly through the boarding gate and into your itty-bitty seat with the pretzel crumbs stuck in the seatbelt and the airline magazine with all the sudoku puzzles already solved.  Sometimes we are at fault for these stresses, as we left packing to the very last minute or couldn’t pull ourselves away from the goodbye hugs. But there are times when the realities of intersecting lives keeps us from arriving at the airport in a timely manner, as was portrayed in my last “Why Norway” post. Now folks, here you have it, the next installment of this journey of journeys. 


As I ran inside the miniature airport, I was so relieved to find that their security area was so small and with only one other person in front of me. I inwardly cheered that I didn’t have to fear the unorganized traveler that could potentially delay me further.  Until I realized, that unorganized traveler was me.  Or, well, only sort of.  I shoved my things into the x-ray machine, removed all metal articles, slid off my shoes, and leaped through the metal detector. As I emerged from the other side, I noticed the conveyor belt had stopped... with my backpack still inside. The TSA lady asked if that was my bag, pulled it from the machine, and proceeded to rifle through it, looking for whatever suspicious item they feared I might be smuggling onto my plane leaving this minuscule New York airport. I was practically jumping through the roof as I was SO late for my flight, and I shared this fact with the TSA woman, right as an announcement blared across the airport speakers stating that my flight was in its final boarding process and would be leaving immediately. ARG! Thankfully, this wonderful woman stopped looking through my bag, picked up the phone, and called my gate notifying them that I was in the airport and would be joining them shortly. Thank you JESUS! Turns out the “suspicious item” was my copy of Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers that was turned at such an angle that caused alarm.  I have NO idea what they saw on that screen to confused a potentially dangerous item with a paperback book, but she rearranged the novel, ran my bag through the x-ray one more time, and then cheered me on through the airport.


Off I ran. Of course my gate would be the very end gate, so even though the airport was small, I still had to run for what seemed like an eternity.  I halted as the gate attendant took my ticket, ushered me inside, practically slammed the gate door behind me, and I moseyed on down to the plane.  I just kept saying, “Thank you Lord.  Thank you LORD!” as I walked up the steps to board the aircraft.  And then I turned the corner to see all 30 people staring at me as I entered.  Oh dear.  Yes, it is my fault you were all waiting.  Yes, I am sweating profusely as I just ran the equivalent to a 400-yard dash with a backpack & a small suitcase. I gingerly slid into my seat, rather flushed and embarrassed, and the plane nearly instantly began to push back.  Phew.  At least I made it.


As I began to sort myself out and regain a normal breathing pattern, I finally noticed my seat neighbor.  He was a teenage boy, and he kept slyly looking at me from the corner of his eye. Oh no. Do I have something on my face? I know I must look a mess after all the bus, taxi & security fiascos.  As I was pulling out my book from my bag, finally he said, “Hey, do you do Young Life?”  Woah.  That one caught me off guard.  


“Yes, I do,” I said as I smiled back at him. 


“I noticed your watch, bag, and shirt as you sat down, that’s why I asked.”


You see, I was wearing this $5, neon green, rubber watch from the camp store, which happened to be emblazoned with the YL logo, the aforementioned purple polar bear YL Norge shirt given to me at the beginning of the week, along with a plastic bag from the YL store, filled with yummy snacks. 


I explained to him that I had just come from a week at Lake Champion and asked how he knew about the organization.  Turned out he was a sophomore in high school, just out in New York visiting his dad for two weeks, and was returning to Washington, where he & his mom live, along with his “awesome” Young Life leader.  He shared how he was so bummed, because he missed out on camp that summer due to his trip to New York, along with the fact that he had a big black cast on his arm from a skate-boarding injury.  I remember, right as he was in the middle of his story, thinking, “Jesus, you are freaking hilarious & brilliant.  Thank you for putting this kid in the seat next to me, where I get to hear about how much he loves his Young Life leader and what an impact YL has made on his life.”  We chatted the entire flight, and I exited the plane practically beaming with joy from the encounter.  


As we parted at the gate, I was almost a little sad that I wouldn’t get to share the rest of my journey with this young man and his amazing spirit. (If only, at this point, I knew what was in store for me still!)  I then moseyed on over to the flight information screens, looking for my gate to Orlando.  Now, I was flying through Philadelphia, which is an international airport, and so I was wonderfully surprised when my eyes did not first land on the word Orlando, but instead on Oslo, which was listed directly under my destination.  Oslo?  As in the capital of Norway, Oslo? That can’t be...!  I was so delighted by this, that I even took a picture of it on my phone, knowing it could not be just a coincidence.  I even pondered what it would take to just jump on that flight instead of my own to Florida, wanting to start my work in Norway ASAP!


Dreaming about the possibility of pulling a Bond or Bourne move to get on that Oslo flight, I headed to my gate, and as I arrived, was shocked by the number of people seated there, waiting for the plane.  And then I remembered it was the dead of summer--the highest peak of the tourist season in Florida.  As I scanned the crowd for even a slice of an empty seat, I finally found one in the very back corner.  I rolled my suitcase over there, plopped down, pulled all of my YL advertised self and stuff near me, as not to be spilling out into the overcrowded seating area, and finally looked around.  There was a business man sitting to my right, some young women to my left, and in front of me, there was a large group of what appeared to be very Norwegian people.  


Who were these people?  Were they Norwegians? Were they Americans? Where did they come from?  These details, and MORE, will be divulged to you in the next, and final, installment of this incredible story.


As always, thanks for reading, and stop by again soon!!


Until next time,
Keep on loving. Keep on living.